The Mockingjay
by crisskisses
Summary: The Capitol destroyed my home and they're after me and anyone I love next. Join me as I struggle to stay sane, keep loved ones safe, and stay alive. I am Katniss Everdeen and I will not go down without a fight.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"No!" I was screaming at Haymitch again.

I was screaming at him because he was trying to control me, just like I was his pawn in the Capitol's twisted chess game. The few pure white pieces we still had on our side were tinged with red. Some were missing, being held in the hands of the enemy. President Snow's blood/rose scented hands were holding two of Haymitch's pawns, maybe more. One was my fellow player, with me since the beginning. My Peeta.

And here I was, screaming out my insanity at the one person who was probably the reason I was alive. I had finally accepted that I was partially insane. Being thrown into an arena to fight to the death not once but twice could do that to you. Even more so if you throw in a fake romance that gets more real every day, until the other half of it is ripped from your confused, but willing, hands. Just like katniss tubers ripped from the ground. Just like me ripped from my old life.

I haven't taken in a word Haymitch is saying to me. The reason for my yelling was his denying my rescue mission plans for Peeta.

Now I can just feel Gale's well muscled arms encasing me. My limbs are flailing. I'm fighting him but, as usual, I fall limp and he pins me to one of the white sterile beds that the helicopter has to offer. It's quite a large helicopter.

Gale's telling me to breath and I'm obeying.

"Katniss," Gale says steadily. "You're okay."

I shake my head and he presses me into his chest. All I can see is his dirty white tee shirt, soaked with my tears.

I'm not okay. The names of the people that aren't okay because of me come to my mind: Prim, my mother, probably Madge, Rue, Thresh, that old District 11 man, Darius, the Avox girl, Mags, Cinna, even Johanna. But only one name floods to my mouth before I can stifle it.

"Peeta."

The hurt only flashes for a second in Gale's gray eyes but I catch it. Pure, gray, pain. He's just another person who's not okay because of me.

"Catnip," Gale says teasingly. "I'm Gale."

"I know you are. But Peeta's trapped in the Capitol still,"

I'm still choking back tears. Gale just strokes my hair now. That's one of the amazing things about Gale. He can be so outspoken, but sometimes when he's just silent I can tell we're on the same page.

Plutarch Heavensbee enters the room, still wearing his strange mockingjay watch that proves he's on my side.

"We'll be arriving in District 13 in one hour." he announces, with a sympathetic look towards me.

Haymitch was the next person to enter the room.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart," he said gently. Gentle wasn't Haymitch's forte so I must be a real mess. Gale excused himself and I sat up in my bed. Haymitch seated himself in a chair opposite.

"District 13, it's still in ruins. The survivors have constructed a make shift city underground. I have contacts there and they've came up with a plan. They know that there's cameras' surrounding the entrance to the underground. The Capitol placed them everywhere as soon as they caught wind of the rebellion. They suspected the rebels could use District 13 as a base. They were, of course, right. But the idiots don't know that the survivors of District 13 have been in contact with the rebels for the past three years." Haymitch tells me all of this seriously. It reminded me of him coaching me for the Games.

"Wait," I say. "You said the rebels have been in contact with them for three years! That's not possible, the rebellion just started this year, unless..."

Unless the rebellion had been planned, I had been planned.

"Bingo," says Haymitch with a smile. "We victors and Plutarch's secret group have been planning the rebellion for a while."

"But-"

"District 12 was planned to be the first to rebel. It seems crude but, because we were the poorest District, we were somewhat of a test to see how well the rebellion would go over with the rest of the Districts."

This is all too much to take in. District 12 being sacrificed for the greater good? The rebellion having been in the works for years? Where do me and my mockingjay come into this?

Haymitch seems to sense my frustration.

"The plan was to wait until a District 12 tribute had a chance of winning. When you were reaped, you were viewed as promising. You and Peeta-"

We were both silent for a second.

"-defying the Capitol wasn't a part of the original plan. I thought of it in my coaching sessions with Peeta. His love for you seemed the perfect weapon for the Capitol audience. Though they're sadistic, they're sappy. If you could get them to love you, President Snow would have to be a lot more subtle about destroying you."

I gulp but I'm not sure why. A person wanting to destroy me was old news and it shouldn't phase me anymore.

"The mockingjay-"

I still wanted to know what my mockingjay had to do with all this, but Haymitch cut me off yet again.

"Your mockingjay was planned to be the symbol of rebellion. Your friend Madge's father was in on the rebellion too, Katniss."

I gasp. "You're in contact with Madge's father!"

"I was. Madge's parents perished with most of District 12."

"No!" I couldn't believe this. "Where's Madge?"

She couldn't be dead.

"I don't know, Katniss. The point is she knew about the rebellion. That's one of the reasons she gave you the mockingjay pin."

"But why did the mockingjay have to be the symbol of the rebellion?"

"We thought that if we used something that belonged to a tribute that died in the arena we could show the Capitol."

Belonged to a tribute that died in the arena. So Haymitch knew I knew about Madge's aunt, Maysilee Donner. She was a District 12 tribute who had an alliance with Haymitch in his Games.

I suddenly notice the look in Haymitch's slightly moistened eyes. It's a look I've seen in Peeta's eyes, in Gale's eyes, and how my father had looked at my mother.

"You loved her!" I blurted out.

Haymitch tried to wave me away but I spontaneously threw my arms around him. He hugged me back and muttered something gruff and unintelligible.

The hour was up. It was time to go to District 13. Without a word, Haymitch and I walked into the common area.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

We are lined up next to the window of the helicopter; Haymitch, Gale, Finnick, and I. There is a small door on the side of the helicopter with a little strip of floor attached to it.

Plutarch and Haymitch are explaining the plan to us. Plutarch is going to stay behind; Beetee is still in the helicopter, but still unconscious. Plutarch has to secretly take him back to a Capitol hospital.

The two older men tell us that their organization has researched and discovered that the Capitol has cameras monitoring the ruins of District 13. The researches confirmed the highest cameras are located in the tall trees.

Most trees had been smouldered in the bombing but a few still remain. Our helicopter is hovering on the outskirts of the District, a few feet higher than the tallest of trees, so we can't be detected.

"So the plan is you four will enter the underground through an opening plate the survivors have created. They can press a button while underground and a hole will open for people to enter." Plutarch says in his funny Capitol accent.

"But," says Haymitch, "You can't walk up to the plate or the cameras will spot you."

Cameras ruining everything, story of my life.

"We also can't land the helicopter. If they see us we'll be captured, and fast," Haymitch continues ominously.

"Well then how are we going to get there?" I ask moodily.

"We're jumping, sweetheart."

I give a little jolt. Even though I'm used to jumping out of trees, I've never considered free falling from this height.

Gale basically has the same reaction as me, but I see real fear flicker in Finnick's green eyes. Sure, he's used to jumping into water, but jumping from the air into land definitely isn't in his comfort zone. But, being Finnick, he quickly hides it and puts on his usual cocky, unfazed face.

"You can't be seen falling either so you'll have to put these on." Plutarch says, brandishing clothes made of strange material.

We each took a jumpsuit and a mask. The material does feel very odd. The best way I can describe it is a thin strip of air cushioned in between two sheets of the thinnest softest silk. I discard my clothes and pull on the jumpsuit. It's skin-tight and feels barely there. There's a hood too so I tuck my braid in at the back and bring the hood up. It covers most of my forehead and cheeks and fastens just under my chin.

I vaguely wonder, still holding the mask, how this will stop me from being seen, but the wondering stops abruptly when I catch sight of my reflection in the window. Or rather, didn't catch sight of my reflection!

I am invisible accept for my floating face! I scream a little and check the others reactions.

I walk back into the common area and see that Gale is staring at his nonexistent arm in horror; Finnick is smiling and doing a trick where he unzips and re zips the front of the jumpsuit quickly so it looks like he keeps disappearing. Haymitch doesn't have much of a reaction, he must've known about this.

After closer inspection, I realize that we aren't completely invisible. You can still see the outlines of Gale and Finnick's muscled torsos and Haymitch's gut. There's also faint stitching visible at the seams of the jumpsuits. It's more like we're see-through pieces of glass. We won't be noticeable whizzing down three hundred feet from the air.

Plutarch summons us over to the little door.

"We'll have to do this in three trips; the survivors have only stored enough solar power to open their trapdoor three times. So two of you will have to go together," he says.

Gale's arms wrap around me. "We'll go together," he says.

"Alright," says Plutarch. "Who's first?"

"I'll go," Finnick says confidently. It seems his brief period of fright is over. Plutarch checks to make sure we're directly over the opening plate. We are so he tells Finnick he is free to go. They say their goodbyes.

I watch breathlessly at the window where Finnick is about to hop out onto the ledge. He sees me staring and winks, and then pulls on his mask.

I can't tell if he's jumped yes until Plutarch says he has and asks who is next.

Gale and I volunteer. I want to thank Plutarch for all he's done. He has, in a way, saved my life.

"It's been a pleasure accommodating with you Katniss, you as well Gale."

"Take care, Plutarch." I say.

Gale doesn't say anything but at least he doesn't scowl. Gale doesn't like anyone from the Capitol. I thought he wouldn't mind the ones from the organization that was helping defy the Capitol but he still has a lot of warming up to do.

But it's because of knowing that Plutarch's on our side and that we share the same enemy, knowing that this may be the last time we see him if he is killed or we are killed that makes Gale and I do what we do. We each take the three middle fingers of our left hand and press them to our lips and hold them out to Plutarch.

"I hope I see you again." Plutarch says.

With that, Gale and I pull on our masks, vanish from the world, and prepare to make the jump. I am only a slight bit scared now after seeing, I mean not seeing, and Finnick make it look so effortlessly.

I step out onto the ledge with Gale at my side, I take his hand and he gives it a little squeeze, a signal to jump. We do.

It's so invigorating! The strange fabric cuts through the air like a steak knife through butter. It feels like I'm floating, not falling.

We're about halfway to the ground now and I'm starting to panic, why hasn't the plate opened yet? I know there's only a millisecond left in the journey, that's when the panic goes into over drive.

I can feel my mask slipping, inching off my face! Now it's off entirely! The strap must've been defective! I don't know what to do, so I settle for the first thing that comes to mind. I bury my exposed face into Gale's jumpsuit. Hopefully, this will conceal me as well as him but I can't be sure.

We're falling faster now and I'm certain that we're going to bang into the earth and break. My toes are literally skimming the dirt, but I don't dare move my face to see if we're dead. I hear a chink of metal on metal and then am plunged into darkness.

Before the chink I could see the blue, sunny sky through Gale, but now blackness is closing in on all sides. I feel glass behind my back, it's like we're in a tube! This is reminding me strongly of something that I can't put my finger on.

Suddenly we come to a stop. It's like we've landed on a bouncy cushion of air. We hover daintily down for the last few inches. It's hard to believe that from the moment we stepped off the helicopter ledge to now, maybe ten seconds have passed.

There is light now and I can see Finnick is still in this room as well. He's already taken off his jumpsuit and is standing there stark naked as only Finnick would.

My second discovery is that Gale and I are in face in a glass tube. It's a tight fit; the tube seems to be made for one person.

I can see a person standing at a control panel in the corner. They press a button and the tube releases Gale and I, only to fasten itself back firmly into place for Haymitch's arrival.

When I staggered out of the tube and stopped clutching at Gale I recognized the person at the control panel. It was Bonnie! One of the woman I had met in the woods, she had told me about her plans, she had told me about her plans of running off to District 13, back when I was skeptical such a place even existed.

"Bonnie! You made it!" I call to her.

"Yes, Katniss Everdeen. I caught wind that you were arriving today so I volunteered to work the plate," says Bonnie shyly.

"How does the plate work anyways?" asks Gale.

I'd told him about Bonnie and Twill before and he seemed much more interested in talking to Bonnie then a Capitol person.

"We harness sunbeams in the solar panels outside to power it. The panels are placed out high in the trees so the cameras can't see. All the preparation happened before the Capitol started monitoring this place like crazy! We open the plate right when the people are about to crash so it only opens for a millisecond. Even then, the opening of the plate stirs up dust and makes it look like a sand storm. Sand and dust storms are common in District 13 so I doubt the Capitol will be catching us anytime soon!"

Well that is all fine and dandy but how had she and Twill arrived here without being seen by the cameras? They definitely didn't have a helicopter.

As if reading my mind Bonnie answers my thoughts.

"Twill and I joined the underground just before the Capitol's cameras were starting to be set up. Amazing strike of luck I'd say!"

I smile and nod. I am happy Bonnie and Twill got what they wanted.

"Does anyone else find this place familiar?" I ask.

The unknown similarity is really starting to bug me. Everyone shakes their heads, except for Finnick.

"It really does remind me of something," he says.

Haymitch, who had just been released from the tube, also agrees.

Just now, a short stocky man with a white pony tail and matching thick fluffy brows enters the room.

"This is Mayor Wanthope, Katniss." Bonnie introduces.

"Katniss Everdeen, it is an honor to be in your presence." Mayor Wanthope says.

"It's nice to meet you too," I answer, but it kind of sounds like a question because I still don't know who this man is.

"Mayor Wanthope is the head rebel in District 13." Haymitch says.

His eyes are boring into mine. I can practically hear him saying, "Be nice, sweetheart,".

I put on my most dazzling smile and wring Wanthope's hand enthusiastically.

Everything's rather hysterical because Haymitch, Gale, and I are still just floating faces.

"Could we maybe get some visible clothes soon?" I ask tentatively.

"I know someone who could get you some," Haymitch says.

Now I'm confused. I don't need someone to get me the clothes, I can get them myself when I know where they are. Then, I hear a very familiar voice coming from behind me.

"It's about time I get to dress my girl on fire again."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I whip around and see him. Looking a little disheveled with shadows under his eyes, and skinnier than I remembered. But with that gold eyeliner still glinting away there was no mistaking it.

"Cinna!" I scream and launch myself into his open arms. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am, who else would've had the brilliance to make those jumpsuits," Cinna teases.

I can't stop hugging him because I've been so worried about him for so long. Ever since I'd seen him being beat up before the Quarter Quell his safety has been in the back of my mind.

"So you have clothes for me?" I ask.

"Obviously," he says, placing a garment bag into my hands.

The Games are over but it seems Cinna isn't giving up on me yet.

The clothes he's given me seem to be made out of fabric from old clothes. Of course there must not be much fabric to choose from in this underground society, but since they were Cinna's of course they were fabulous. I have no clue how he's gotten his hands on a garment bag, though. Leave it to Cinna to have garment bags in the face of danger, death, and starvation.

As soon as I am all nice and visible I ask one of my many questions.

"How did you escape Cinna?"

It had looked impossible for him to do just that after I'd watched him being dragged away, battered and bloody.

"He didn't do it on his own," says Haymitch, joining the conversation.

"Yes that's true," Cinna says. "I owe everything to Haymitch."

"Wait?" I ask. "You helped him escape?"

"Well those guards didn't beat themselves up," says Haymitch with sarcasm.

"How did you do it, without them following you?"

I am curious as to why Haymitch or Cinna hasn't gotten a tracker on them, from the escape.

"Katniss, he killed them," says Cinna quietly.

"I don't regret it; they were working towards killing us."

"Who's working towards killing us?" asks Gale, he and Finnick have just wandered back into the room.

"Yeah, besides the Gamemakers, most of the Capitol and the president himself," says Finnick sarcastically.

Gale and Finnick aren't the best of friends. Gale's too practical to accommodate with Finnick's taste and Finnick is too materialistic for Gale's. Besides that, I think their disagreements are mainly because they are so alike. Both had to work to say alive at a young age, both were ready to work for it, and both are ready to voice their opinions and go for what they want. They also both loved a crazy girl.

"Well," I say, getting back into the conversation. "I expect there's a lot more people trying to kill us than that, but at least now Haymitch made sure a few of them are dead."

"Really? You, Haymitch?" asks Finnick, sizing Haymitch up.

"Of course me!" Haymitch says exasperatedly, he then muttered something that sounded a lot like "arrogant boy" under his breath. All the same, he just messed up Finnick's bronze curls and put one arm around me. "You two have got to remember who the best victor is," he says.

"What?" says Finnick, in mock horror. "It's so me!"

"Nah, I could take both of you. You're just too worried about messing up your hair again," I addressed Finnick, who was, in fact, still fixing his mused hair. "And you're going soft," I finished, to Haymitch.

"That's nonsense! The old Abernathy will never go soft," Haymitch articulates. Then he takes a swig from a white liquor bottle that I truly had no idea where he's gotten.

It's mind-blowing that us three: Finnick, Haymitch and I, can have this conversation on who would win in yet another Hunger Games. It's crazy how we could joke about what scarred us physically, mentally, and emotionally.

"So, who would like a tour of our underground?" asks Mayor Wanthope, who has been there for the whole conversation, I've just forgotten.

We are all up for the tour, first Wanthope shows us through the little door at the back near the control panel. With one last glance over my shoulder it dawns on me. The familiarity of the glass tube, the controls it all makes sense.

It seems to dawn on Haymitch and Finnick at the same time, their expressions are awe tinged with terror. It seems Haymitch hasn't known exactly how District 13 was built beforehand either. The Mayor notices our realization.

"Yes, we built the underground basing it off an old Hunger Games site," he explains apologetically.

"But, how come it didn't become a tourist attraction like all the other old arenas?" asks Gale with disgust.

"This was a scrapped arena, it barely ever happens, but sometimes, in the early stages of construction, the government decides they don't like the arena in question. Also, it helped to have Plutarch on the Gamemaker's panel. He helped convince them to scrap this one and build it in District 13."

"How are you sure there aren't cameras?" I ask suspiciously.

"Don't worry, Katniss," Cinna soothes. "They've checked everything, you're safe here."

The rest of the tour passes uneventfully: Mayor Wanthope shows us the rest of the underground's rooms, more taverns really. It seems the test arena they had built this on has been quite large, near fifty acres was my guess. What the survivors had done was use the launching rooms, or slaughter houses as we called them back in District 12, as the main head quarters but then dug out tunnels branching off from the Capitol rooms.

District 13 is a strange place; it has rock formations under the surface. Caves the survivors have made their homes.

It's dinner before we know it. A larger rock room near the center of the underground serves as the kitchen/dining hall. It looks like the 13th District is doing pretty well for itself. I wonder where all the food comes from. There are nuts and berries and a ton of vegetables.

When I ask how they got it all an old woman with a kind face tells me that before the Capitol's cameras arrived they could send their best fighters into the surrounding woods to gather food. After the surveillance showed up, they couldn't risk it. No one has been out for weeks, so it's good they've worked up a stash. They can't last forever thought.

All this thought of food rationing is reminding me of my own family. What do they have to eat? Where are they? Gale had just told me he'd "got them out" of District 12, he'd never specified where.

"Gale!" I call urgently across the table. "Where are Prim and my mother?"

I can't believe that I haven't asked this question. Maybe it's because I trust Gale too much. Maybe it's because I'm a horrible person. Either way, I need to know.

"They're safe!" Gale starts, sensing my anguish. "I couldn't have brought them here; two Capitol guys were on my tail when I was escaping. Your family is in District 11. When you were gone, last time, well, the rebellion was in full swing. The family of that little girl, Rue, they were being hunted by the Capitol. So they trekked up to 12 and lived with your family for a bit. The youngest girl was injured and your mother healed here. Anyways, before District 12 got…blown up, you could feel something wasn't right. I had to get them out of there. So I sent them back to 11, along with my family. District 11's got this great security system for the rebels that they built up. It's the safest place for them to be right now."

I chew my finger nails. I am still uneasy about everything. Still, Gale has shown extraordinary selflessness by saving my family. I reach out and take his hand.

"Thank you." I tell him.

But now I have to push Prim and my mother out of my mind, they are as safe as I can hope for now. There's another person I have to save now, who is in much more danger and has much less time to be rescued. I need to get to Peeta Mellark and I know just how to start.

The sleeping arrangements in District 13 are actually quite comfortable, it's a shame I'll never get to try them out. Some of the caverns have nice woven blankets and pillows and the underground is rather peaceful at night.

Of course, Haymitch will have a field day if he finds out what I am doing; he has more or less forbid me. But he doesn't understand. Peeta's life is at stake, and he doesn't realize how much Peeta means to me. I'm not sure how much I realize it either.

I creep as silently as I can through the underground. I'm heading to the room we arrived in so it's a good thing my sense of direction's not bad; the caves are easy to get lost in.

I make it to the room and, sure enough, my invisibility jumpsuit is still lying crinkled on the round, just where I left it earlier. I snag it off the floor and then start searching for a mask to steal; mine's whereabouts is still unknown. I spot one sitting precariously on the control panel in the corner. I reach for it but, to my horror, another hand reaches at the same time as mine.

I make to scream but a hand clamps down over my mouth. Then, my feet are whisked out from under me and my head hits the floor with a deafening crunch.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Ears ringing, I look into the stranger's eyes. We squint as our pupils dilate to adjust to the darkness. We recognize each other at the exact same moment.

"What are you doing here?" Finnick and I ask each other simultaneously.

"I could ask you the same thing!" we answer in indignant unison.

At this point I say, "If you must know, I'm going to rescue Peeta," at the same time as Finnick says "Do you really think I would let Johanna dies?"

We grin at each other.

"Allies?" Finnick asks me for the second time.

"Allies." I agree. "Really, Johanna though? I thought you would want to go find… Annie." I finish softly.

"Johanna's been a real friend to me over the years, I owe a lot to her. Once we've saved her and Peeta, my debt will be paid. Then I'll be long gone," he trails off.

I saw it coming but I don't want to think about Finnick leaving to find Annie until it happens. I don't want him to get hurt, but I know it's a great possibility because he'll do anything to save his insane lover.

Just then, we hear echoing footsteps coming down the halls. For a moment, I am petrified, but only for a moment. It's just Gale.

"I knew you were going to pull a stunt like this Catnip and that's why I've come prepared and I'm coming with you," he says pointedly, brandishing a jumpsuit and mask of his own.

Sometimes it's crazy how much Gale gets me. I try to protest about him coming with us, but the attempts are only half hearted. It will be nice to have him with me anyways.

So, without further ado, Gale, Finnick, and I quietly finalize the plan. We're going to the Capitol, where we know for sure Peeta and Johanna are held captive, somewhere. None of us are sure how this going to go down but I definitely can't stay here and do nothing. We'll hijack a train or something.

We don the invisible gear (this time being smart enough to leave our clothes on underneath) and switch on the controls. This time, all three of us will have to go up the tube in one trip, not because there's not enough stored solar energy, but because it would be too risky to use it more than once.

Finnick says he can set the controls to stop the tube's rising just before the glass is higher than the earth. That way, we can jump out, still invisible. It'll be less obvious. Finnick only knows this because he was chatting up Bonnie over supper, but you still have to appreciate his knowledge.

If I thought the tube was a tight fit with just Gale and I, it was nothing compared to all three of us being crammed inside. Since I'm the smallest, it's decided that I will go in the middle. Now Finnick's lips are grazing my left ear and I have no means of pulling away.

"You still haven't asked for your sugar, sugar," he purrs seductively.

The little part of Gale's face that's not smashed up against the glass scowls. I extract my hand, with extreme difficulty, and shove Finnick's face away. In this action I accidentally elbow Gale in the stomach.

"Sorry!" I say.

"It's okay," he answers through gritted teeth.

I turn back to Finnick, "You, shut up. We need to be completely silent when we get out of here. You can bet those cameras have mikes!"

"Sorry, you're the only one making all this noise," Finnick answers with a smirk.

"Yeah, Katniss cool it," Gale agrees.

I really don't need this right now, Gale and Finnick deciding to become friends just to gang up on me. These are the times when I see Peeta as the jewel he really is in the male species. Speaking of him, we really have to get going.

We all shut up when the tube starts rising from the preset controls and hastily shove on our masks, which have been dangling from hands pressed between bodies or up against glass until now. The tube rising is making a slight whirring noise, I'm fretting. The cameras won't pick up the noise, right? Not with the billowing wind bustling around outside.

I'm worried that the cameras will pick up the little hole in the ground that the tube comes through. At least if they do it will appear empty. Unless they somehow knew that Cinna created the invisible suits for us. But that was impossible, he'd told me over dinner that he was the first one to succeed in making invisible material through science. And Haymitch has taken care of the guards who had captured Cinna before they could've tortured information out of him. No, there's no way they could know about the suits.

Thinking about Cinna and Haymitch makes me realize how I never gave either of them a proper goodbye. Suddenly, I'm facing the huge possibility that I might never see them again. It's scary the things you forget when the real world starts feeling like the Hunger Games.

The tube has risen now and I slither out first, closely followed by Finnick and Gale. Since we can't see each other and can't bear to lose each other I tightly grasp one of each of their hands.

The plan is to sprint and sprint and keep moving until we find a District. Never being educated on their locations, none of us have any idea which direction to go in. But when I think of what the Capitol could be doing to Peeta at this very minute, I pick a direction at random and start running. The boys follow.

It's awkward, running with each arm attached to a different person. After about two hours of stop and go travel its clear that I'm a liability. I am fast, but Gale and Finnick are faster.

To solve the problem, one of them (I've long since forgotten who's on which side) scoops me up into his arms. I position myself piggy back style on his back and can only assume he grabs the other man's arm and we continue on.

I can't express how strange it is to hurtle along the desert, feet off the ground, and not see your means of transportation.

After a half hour or so more of this I'm starting to dose off so the boys must be tired from exhaustion, running, and one from carrying me. Simultaneously, we drop to the ground in a sweaty, invisible heap.

We're in a forest now, which is slightly more comforting than lying in the middle of the desert. My brain is fuzzy from the overload of information it's acquired since I woke up on the helicopter this morning. Despite the freezing wind chilling my skin, I fall into a deep sleep immediately, still carefully clutching the other two to make sure they are still there.

I'm awakened by the bright sun peaking through the canopy of leaves. I am parched. We couldn't have brought food or water on the journey because it would have looked odd just floating along. It seems like this plan wasn't well thought out at all, I can't admit this to the others though, and we need to stay strong.

I find Gale and Finnick's hands and squeeze them to check if they're awake. I get one returning squeeze, one is awake.

I can feel him shift into a sitting position beside me. His fingers search my face and find my ear. He is leaning in and I know he's going to whisper something to me. That can't happen with cameras around!

I shove my fingers to his lips as if to say, "be quiet". I've spotted a mockingjay nesting in one of the trees and had an idea.

I creep up close to the mockingjay and sing out a random simple melody to it in my best bird imitation.

My fellow tries to stifle me but I shove him to the ground and sing out the melody again. Please repeat it, please repeat it, I think with baited breath.

A moment passes and then the bird sings! Flocks of more mockingjays join it and they're all, thankfully, singing loudly.

"Speak now!" I whisper urgently, the birds will drown us out.

"Justice building," he utters. There's no mistaking it now that it's Gale. He then turns my head so that I'm looking in the direction where I do see the justice building in the distance.

I get it now; Gale wants us to go to the justice building. Maybe he thinks there could be water in there or that there are no cameras inside, I don't know. But it's the best plan we have and I want to do something before we all dehydrate.

"Yes." I whisper to Gale. "Finnick."

He understands, we need to wake Finnick. We grab hands and crawl back towards our third member. I feel around, find him and shake him awake. After that's done, the mockingjays' song is trailing off. We have to tell him the plan and fast.

"Justice building," I whisper extra quietly, and then train his eyes in its direction, just like Gale had done for me.

"Yes," Finnick whispers. He understands.

The mockingjays are silent now so, so are we. Gale grabs Finnick's arm, slings me over his shoulder and the guys start sprinting towards the building.

I don't need them carrying me all the time! I want to protest, but it's not easy in silence, so I let it go.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

We reach the justice building in a considerably short time. Gale has put me down now and we're treading around the building, checking for cameras. We've come to an unspoken agreement to do this.

Finnick or Gale squeezes my right hand and trains my eyes towards a tall tree directly behind the justice building. Sure enough the evil blinking red light of a camera is staring me down. It seems the Capitol isn't being subtle about the surveillance, they must want us rebels to feel like we have no where to hide. Obviously they've underestimated Katniss, the girl on fire.

Our trio regroups and stands in front of the building. There must be a way for us to discreetly get inside, we need water and this is the only place that might possibly have some. If there's none here we'll have to go back to the underground if we don't want to die. If that would even work, they would have to see us to open the plate and that's out of the question. Not to mention how mad Haymitch would be about our pointless journey.

I spot a window on the front of the building with no glass panes in it. Could we jump through it with no noise?

I squeeze Finnick and Gale's hands and turn their heads towards the window. One is enthusiastic about the idea and runs up to the window, dragging our chain behind him. The leader drops our hands. There's a swish like someone jumping through air and a faint thud with a creak of feet landing on floorboards.

He's jumped through the window! Hopefully the person who views the tape will mistake the thump as a ghost or something. Do Capitol residents believe in ghosts?

I brush the thought from my mind and feel hands search for, find, and clamp around my waist. My feet leave the ground and I'm lifted gently through the window and placed silently on my toes. I grab the person's hand and shortly after that, the third member joins us. We're all in now.

I'd thought the worst bit of the damage was on the outside of the building; I'd been wrong.

The outside of the justice building, with it's smoldered wood, missing window glass, and blackened soot covering the desert sand around it, looks like a lovely estate compared to the ransacked, rundown, interior. The strewn topsy-turvy furniture and dented walls tell me that the last person here, years and years ago, didn't leave willingly. They put up a good fight for their District and paid dearly, judging by the horrible staining on the carpet that looks sickeningly like old, dried, blood.

Gale, Finnick and I are now silently continuing our camera search. We know that there will definitely be no possibility of staying up here, because the large windows and gapes in the walls make it dangerous, but it will be comforting to know what we're up against.

I tiptoe as quietly as possible through the building, checking for cameras and microphones as well, atop the wrong-side-up furniture, in the corners of rooms, behind vases of long-dead flowers. It would be pointless to go upstairs the tall tree cams would pick up movement higher up more than lower down. I know the boys have enough sense to stay on the ground floor, too.

In my search, I'm keeping a constant lookout for water as well. There's been no such luck and I'm starting to panic. When my body was in overdrive putting the plan to save Peeta into action, my mind lay forgotten. I'm angry at myself for letting the two boys suffer along with me and my stupidity. I have no water, nothing to quench my parched thirsting throat.

I for one should understand the importance of water. In the early days of my first games I had literally almost died from dehydration. At least then I could show myself to find some, whereas now I must stay completely concealed.

What is wrong with me? Am I actually considering the possibility that I'd rather be in the Hunger Games than where I am now? I must be crazy, there's not much time left until the hallucinations kick in; pools of delicious clear blue mirage water, always inches from my grasp.

It's been less than twenty four hours since I drank from the natural springs, deep in the underground of District 13 but it feels much longer.

In a frenzied last ditch effort I plod around, a little less carefully in my frantic search, feet shuffling on the creaky floorboards, looking for water.

The corner of my eye spies something interesting that I haven't yet noticed. It's an open staircase descending to a basement of sorts. It seems promising. Getting back into my old mindset, I tiptoe off to find the guys.

It's relatively easy considering we can't see each other or make any sounds. This must be how it feels to be blind and deaf. Once, in District 12, a little boy lost his sense of sight and hearing because of a fever no one could cure, not even my mother. But I stop thinking of him now, District 12 is gone, my mother is far away, and the little boy could've died in the explosion because of me.

The one problem that happens is when I bump into one of the two men and almost fall to the floor! It would've been disastrous if he hadn't, just, caught me.

I lead the other two to the staircase I have discovered. The three of us are all slower and more sluggish now so they must be feeling the effects of the dehydration as well. We reach the stairs and I stop us, to show that this is what I wanted them to see. They understand and we continue down the dusty, carpeted, steps.

At the bottom of them we are greeted by a room much smaller than the upstairs ones. It looks like it served as some kind of office.

A quick glance around the room proves that it isn't being watched by the Capitol's beady red camera lenses. The room is very tiny, there's not many places a camera could be hiding, but all the same we check thoroughly after the first impression; technology is very advanced in the Capitol, they could have cameras almost too small to see.

But along with no cameras came no water, no hope of success. I am weak and clutch a heavy paperweight on the desk in the corner for support, and out of despair. I know Gale and Finnick are still near, I can feel their body heat inches from me.

Amidst my clutching I sink to the floor. What's the use? I see no point to continue, we have no water or means of going back to the underground.

The desk, though old, is made of mahogany wood and shiny from varnish. I am situated so I can see under it, right through it to the red velvet wallpaper.

There seems to be a slit, cutting through the wall as though from a knife. I reach out, half curious, half delirious, and touch it. I was expecting to feel a wall, maybe with knife ridges running along where the slit is, behind it, but it's bare!

There is no wall behind the cut! Fully curious now, I feel around. Yes, there is some wall now. But only jagged edges around a gaping hole! It's too small for either of the boys to fit through but I think I can manage. I'm really excited now, so excited that I accidentally cheer out loud.

My shriek is greeted by two frantic shushing noises, I know if I could see Finnick and Gale's faces they would be terrified. Struck by a sudden, probably crazy, urge; I speak again.

"It's okay to whisper, no cameras down here! Listen to me, there's a hole in the wall! Maybe there's something behind it! I'm going in!"

"No, Katniss!" Gale whispers harshly. His voice is dry and raspy, like mine. Probably a combination of not speaking for so long and deadly thirst had caused it.

"No, Gale, I'm going! What have we got to lose? The hole's too small for you two to fit! If there's something worthwhile I'll make it bigger and let you in," I whisper back.

"Sounds like a plan," Finnick whispers.

Gale's voice is panic stricken.

"Don't call too loud!" he says.

The Capitol scares Gale more than it does Finnick and I.

I gather my courage and strength (which is admittedly not much of a job) and squish myself through the gape, therefore plunging into the unknown. What I find is heartbreaking; it's just a little crawl space. What was I expecting? A secretive Capitol-Defying fortress?

This place is dusty as well as disappointing. The mites cloud my eyes and I start coughing. Once the fit is over and I can see again, I'm greeted by what looks like a completely different room.

The crawlspace has led on to something bigger and better than I could've ever imagined, something I can only describe as hope.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Silver steel is what the walls seem to be made of. After the little crawl space/entrance way I'm almost positive the new room is sound proof. Filing cabinets line the walls and dusty, but comfy looking, pillows and blankets fill the corners. I can see cupboards too, one has it's little wooden door ajar and I can see preservative canned foods inside it!

But the thing that really beckons me is the tall, stainless steel refrigerator. I run up to it and yank open the door. Sure enough, it is full to the brim with water bottles! All I want in the world is to rip one open and guzzle down every last drop, but I force my self to leave it for just a few more moments. I should get Finnick and Gale first.

I scamper back through the little entrance way to the hole in the wall.

"The cost is clear! I'm letting you in!" I holler. I am being loud because I'm excited. When I kick the hole in the wall with the heel of my invisi-boot I can practically hear Gale wince. He thinks I'm making to much noise, which I probably am but I can't contain myself!

The hole widens and I finally get it big enough for the boys to fit through. Then one of them clambers in, followed by the other.

The second they're through I race back to the fridge and get three bottles of the water. I hand one each to Gale and Finnick, but keep one for myself. We all rip off our masks and drink down the water in one gulp. I feel so much better with hydration in my system!

Suddenly, Finnick appears out of nowhere!

"I think it's safe to take these off now," he says, referring to the invisible suits.

Gale and I murmur in agreement. There are no cameras in here, I made sure of that. But Gale and I don't take off our suits right away, maybe because we're just tired of being on our feet. I watch Finnick walk around, studying the room. It's odd to see him again, in the flesh.

Finnick stops his pacing and examines a large red button mounted on the wall that I've somehow failed to notice until now.

"I wonder what this does," he mutters.

Oh no, he's not going to press it is he? But to my horror I see him raise a finger, as if in slow motion, and move it towards the button. Hasn't he ever heard the saying, don't press the big red button? I'm about to lunge at him but I am too late. The finger and the button have met.

At first nothing happens. Then, a huge wall slides in from seemingly no where! It's made of the same steel as the other ones and cuts off the entrance way so we're completely concealed in this odd room.

Gale appears next and he looks furious.

"Why did you do that Finnick? We didn't know what would happen if you hit that button! It could've alerted President Snow! This could have been a trap set up to capture and hurt Katniss!" Gale yells. "Or us," he adds as an afterthought.

"Calm down," says Finnick coolly. "It wasn't a trap, it just closed off the room, and whoever built this obviously planned it. We're probably even safer now. You're just mad that you didn't press it. Didn't have the guts to do anything risky?"

"What?" Gale says, and he is fuming now.

"You heard me. You've been trying to impress her," he gestured an arm in the direction he must think I am. "Since Katniss and I got out of the arena, you don't care that she's distraught all you want is to her to love you back! Here's the deal, she doesn't. I know you tried to crash this rescue but I really don't need you getting mad every time we make progress. We don't need you to tell us what to do because you think you know how to survive. Do you think you know how to survive? Have you been in the arena? I'm going to rescue Johanna because I owe her, and then I'm out of here!"

Gale and Finnick are both livid. I know that Finnick means he'll be out of here to save his Annie, but I'm touched that he understands how sad I am that Peeta's still in the Capitol, even if he went about it wrong. If we're going to rescue anyone my comrades can't want to cut each other's throats. I have to intervene.

"Enough! We have to investigate this place; you do realize we still have no clue why it's here right?"

That shut them up. Now that we're all visible it's a lot easier to look around. The cupboard I spotted earlier has proved usefulness. Inside it are stacks of canned foods. Beans, corn, tuna and beets are the types that there seems to be the most of.

I crack open a can of tuna, dip a finger in, and bring the food to my mouth.

"We should ration our resources, you never know how-"Gale starts and stops, he must be remembering Finnick's comment on survival. It looks like the guys are going to try to get along.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we're not going to eat it all," Finnick says less harshly. He has joined me in the eating of the tuna.

Shunning responsibility, Gale fashions himself a snack as well and we eat in peace. Now my belly is rejoicing but my mind is still wandering hallowed halls and wondering why this place is really here. Judging by their still darkened looks, Finnick and Gale don't one hundred percent trust the place yet either?

"It this place was a trap, we'd already be captured," Finnick says. So we are all on the same page, thinking about the reason for the room's existence.

Finnick does bring up a good point. The president would surely rather capture and torture us as soon as possible. Unless he really does have this place under surveillance and we just haven't noticed. He could be digging for information on where the District 13 stronghold is and how come it hasn't been detected!

"It's not a trap," Gale voices. He then looks me right in the eye and says, "We've checked for camera's; there's none. And the government's not looking for information on the underground because they don't even know it exists!"

This is another thing that proves Gale can pretty much read my mind

"He's right, you know," says Finnick reluctantly. "Back when you were…in shock…on the helicopter, Haymitch and Plutarch were telling me all sorts of things. The rebellion just blew up when we were in the arena. With you and your baby, and the inhumanity of it all even some of the Capitol viewers were rattled. Even after our escape from the Games, things got worse. Plutarch still has some contacts that the Capitol thinks are working for them. There are uprisings in all the districts now, except for 1 and 2. So sure the Capitol's hunting us but I think they'll try to get the rebellion under some control first,"

Yes, Finnick's speech does make some sense. But I still have a feeling that something bad will happen that I can't shake off.

"Look, Catnip," Gale says, Finnick rolls his eyes at the nickname. "If you're still worried maybe something in these filing cabinets will tell us why this rooms here."

I shrug but walk with him to the cabinets. There are so many of them! Soon, all three of us are rifling through papers. I make quick work of it even though most of the documents would interest me if we weren't on such a tight schedule. There are actual recollections of the dark days! I am sure these have never been seen by anyone in Panem except for the government!

What really shocks me is an aged piece of parchment furled in a tight scroll. I unravel it and let out an audible gasp.

"What is that?" Finnick asks, strolling over to me.

"A map of…?" I splutter in disbelief.

Gale joins us and looks over my other shoulder.

"It's…Panem," he states in awe and wonder.

It is Panem. A tiny title in the top right corner penned in green ink tells me so. Under that is an oddly shaped land mass, much larger than I even expected our country to be. Apparently, long, long ago it was even bigger, but overtime it eroded away to what we have now.

Each district only has two thousand to then thousand citizens, with the exception of 11 which has more. Now I can see the districts dotted, pinpointed, and perfectly placed. They are spread far and wide across the place. Vast stretches of land separates each one. Except for 12 and 13, which are right beside each other. They were the first two obliterated and somehow shared a border.

I don't know how long Gale, Finnick and I have stared at the tiny map, memorizing the districts' order and studying the intricate compass rose. The truth of the matter is that no citizen of Panem has ever held what I hold in my hands at this very moment.

One of the Capitol's goals has been to isolate the districts, even to divide populations within said districts. Finally, I understand why. We, the districts, have the power, numbers, and sheer drive to overthrow the Capitol. If we can cause uprisings and rebellions on our own, the things we could do as a unified group must be mind-blowing!

Gale is smiling like a maniac!

"Do you know what this means?' he is saying excitedly. "There's a chance we might make it out of this! We could get these people together and we could fight for justice!"

His thoughts mirror mine again. But before we do anything we have to rescue Peeta and Johanna, and for that we need a plan. Now that we have the district map we can navigate out way to the Capitol. Only land masses and District 4 separate us from the Capitol, only that's still very far. Walking is definitely out of the question. When we oblige to turn back to the filing cabinets and see if another jewel lurks among them. I nearly jump when Finnick shouts that he's found something.

"Come here, come here!"

Gale and I go over to him. Finnick is holding a book. It's more of a journal than a book, really. It's thick and bound with faded black leather. On the cover is a tiny golden stamp bearing just three letters: MJS. I only see a glimpse of the letters before Finnick excitedly flips open the journal to the first page and reads aloud:

"Dear reader,

"We don't know who you are or what has brought you here. All I can hope is that you're not working for the Capitol. It's dangerous to write our secrets down in a book they can so easily access, but District 13's legacy must be upheld.

"In the future they will teach in schools horror stories of the districts rebelling and the dark days. What they're not telling is that the dark days were the days full of freedom! They were the days when the Capitol didn't control us or define us.

"Now we have heard rumors about awful things about some Hunger Games and we fear that the Capitol will only get more inhumane.

"Where you are now is somewhat of a stronghold. I am one of the survivors of District 13's termination. We built this onto our justice building with the help of spies in the Capitol. Now the survivors have a base and are able to contact the spies.

"If you have somehow arrived here and are pursuing defeating the Capitol yourself, write any progress in this diary. It will serve as a document of defeat, if you will.

"I wish you the best,

"Sincerely, G. Herbertsin

"-Mayor of District 13"

Finnick finishes reading. The date at the top of the page is eighty years prior to now.

"This is fantastic!" says Gale with a genuine grin. "Let's look at what else is in here!"

We skim through the rest of the diary. I'm still in awe that we lucked out and found a place as great as this! The rest of the journal has entries from more survivors, entries about constructing the underground, even an entry from Mayor Wanthope!

In the back of the journal is a flap that's full of envelopes. They must be reports from the spies' updates! We also find an additional map in the flap.

It's titled "Helicopter Base" and in the legend it says that the survivors eventually made another piece of underground where one of the spies has gotten then a helicopter. According to the paper you can enter that underground through a chute in the ground. The survivors also made the land above very weak so the helicopter could easily plunge through.

Is it possible that the base is still there, along with the copter? It all seems too perfect, the map shows the way from where we are now to the base and it's not even a long distance. Even if, miraculously, the helicopter is still there, raising it from the ground would definitely be picked up by the cameras.

It feels like I'm being offered a very tempting deal. Navigate your way to the helicopter base, fly to the Capitol and rescue the others, but risk being captured and placed in the scary hands of President Snow.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

One time, when I was really young, my father was going out hunting to a rather dangerous part of the forest. I begged and begged to go with him until my mother had to hold me back when he left. I remember, not long after he stepped through the door, I snuck away after him. My mother was busy feeding Prim, who was just a baby at the time, so she didn't notice. Needless to say, my father caught me and brought me back.

Somehow, this story is similar to how I feel about going to the helicopter base, and then the Capitol. I know it will be dangerous, but I still really want to go, yet I feel like it will always be a little ahead of my grasp.

"I say we go!" says Finnick, after he, Gale and I converse about whether or not we'll go to the helicopter base.

"I…agree," I decide firmly.

"Okay, it's a plan," Gale finishes. "But we'll have to be careful and wear the invisible suits again,"

I nod. "And somehow bring food with us and make sure we leave this place undisturbed, we'll have to leave soon and-"

I have no choice but to stop speaking when Gale's calloused thumb and forefinger pinch my lips shut.

"We leave soon," he says to me. "But not tonight,"

"Yes, not tonight," Finnick chips in. "Tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow?" gasps Gale. "We don't even have a concrete plan!"

"Yes we do," I argue. "We're leaving tomorrow,"

"Yeah, two against one, buddy," Finnick adds.

Even though I shudder to think about what the Capitol could do to Peeta in just one night, I understand we can't go on much longer without a good nights sleep.

Now that the plan is set in stone, we can afford to explore this little sanctuary further. There's not much more to observe; we've already took note of the food-filled cupboards, informative files, thirst-quenching fridge, and makeshift bedding. I have to admit, another bodily function has been nagging at me all day. I've had to use the wilderness as my washroom before, and I don't have a problem with it, but keeping invisible does provide a problem.

I'm sifting through the blankets and pillows when I hear Gale call.

"Hey, look at this!" Gale is gesturing to an additional door, easy to miss as it's the exact material of the walls.

I go over and, to my surprise, on the other side of the door is a little extension of our steel room complete with a toilet, sink and what looks like a shower, all made of white porcelain. I am a skeptical person when it comes to optimism, but this place seems pretty magical!

"Dibs!" Finnick and I call out at the same time; our unison seems to be a reoccurring theme.

Finnick wants the washroom first because he needs to make himself "beautiful". I usually wouldn't care; I've proven that cleanliness isn't my number one priority. But annoying Finnick is fun and there's not much fun left in my life, plus I'm in no way guaranteed much more life to have fun, so I duck into the room, slamming the door behind me. I hear Finnick growl behind the barrier and laugh to myself.

The warm water feels lovely on my skin. It seems a waste to have running water here, where no one can use it, but not offer it to most citizens. I guess the survivors needed it at one point.

I really hadn't noticed how grimy I've gotten. When I was more insane than now on the helicopter I wouldn't battle property and before that was the Quell so obviously not then. It really has been a while.

My hair's in a bad state as well. It's still damaged from that painful gas of the Gamemakers' creation that made us all contort like grotesque puppets. In my first Games, I was all fixed up afterwards. This time, though I was taken care of on the copter, I still have my battle scars. The most severe is the one on my arm where Johanna dug the dagger in.

I've stood in the shower for a long time, contemplating a lot of things. As the soap and water sloshes over my body I hear someone knocking rudely on the door. I'd bet my mockingjay pin it's Finnick.

"Are you almost done in there?" he asks.

I don't answer.

"Need any help? I can get the hard to reach places," I can almost hear the smirk on Finnick's face.

Rattled, I hop out of the shower, dry myself off with a towel, compliments of District 13, and throw my clothes back on. My mockingjay pin's still attached to my tank top. I open the door to find Finnick standing inches from it.

"You didn't want any help?" he asks innocently.

I just grit my teeth and walk past him, hitting him with my shoulder purposefully on the way.

Finnick laughs to himself and says, "Okay then, maybe later," then disappears into the other room.

I'm very tired and there's no way to tell, but it feels like night time. I towel dry and plait back my hair, as usual. I find Gale still pouring over the district map. Beside him is our three invisible outfits, twelve water bottles, and some of the canned food.

He sees me staring at the supplies and says, "It's all for the journey. These things have pockets, you know," he holds up a jumpsuit and shows me an invisible zipper at the back. He unzips it to reveal a stretchy pocket. "It'll be awkward to run with them full, but it's what we'll have to do. Judging by our trip here from the underground, it'll take about two days to get to the helicopter base. I'm not assuming there will be water on the copter. So we have to bring all this," he waves a hand over the collection. "You don't think it's too much, do you?"

"No," I answer. "I think it's perfect, but can we sleep now?"

My tiredness has finally gotten the best of me. Gale grins at me and takes my hand. We each take a blanket and pillow from one of the corners and set up a makeshift sleeping arrangement. When I'm finally tucked in I pull one of Gale's arms around me for extra warmth. His lips are at my temple now.

"We really could've done it you know," he says softly.

"Done what?" I ask, even though I have a hunch he's talking about what he proposed to me the morning of that terrible Reaping Day more than a year ago.

"Ran away from everything,"

"I know," I say in a voice full of sadness. "I know we could've,"

My voice cracks on "could've" so I let the tears flow freely now. I wrap my arms around Gale and stifle my cries as I fall into an uneasy sleep full of thoughts of me and Gale and what could have been. In my dreams of us running away to a simpler place, Peeta's anguished face keeps flitting in and I get even more confused.

I must've only slept for a couple of hours when I wake abruptly. I've just dreamt of another Capitol attendant torturing Peeta in another gruesome way.

I have to do something to take my mind off things, but I also want to do something productive. I spot the faded MJS book lying on the cabinet where we'd left it earlier. Maybe I'll write an entry in it, I don't know.

I walk away from Gale, who seems to be dreaming easy, that's good. Then I pass Finnick, who must've slipped in while I dreamt. His pretty face isn't serene in sleep as some people would expect; he looks terrified. He's shaking and breathing heavy. Once I hear him moan something that sounds like, "Annie,". Of course he is thinking of his Annie! I suddenly feel great pity for him.

One of his bare shoulders is sticking out from under his blanket. I bend over and tuck the blanket back over him, he looked cold. But my action didn't stop his thrashing or the terror on his face. Struck by a sudden urge, I stroke his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"Annie is okay, Finnick. She must be,"

Even though there's no way he heard me, Finnick seems to relax a little, or maybe it's just my imagination.

I continue over to the survivor's diary and open it to a blank page.

"Hi," I write awkwardly. "So, the Capitol just destroyed District 12. I'm from there and I was a tribute in the Hunger Games two times. Now the Capitol has captured my allies Peeta Mellark and Johanna Masen. I have to save them. I'm here with Finnick O'Dair, you've probably heard of him, and Gale Hawthorne. Oh and, by the way, I am Katniss Everdeen and I will not go down without a fight."

So my entry is lame but I wanted to write something. I decide that I might be able to go back to sleep now, and rifle through the diary absentmindedly. I stop flipping when I see an envelope in the back flap that intrigues me. It has already been ripped open and now the corner of a picture peaks out of the top. I pull out the photo and stare at it.

It's not posed and proper like most pictures. If you can afford family photos in District 12 you must pay an extreme fee to the town photographer. This photo looks like it was taken by a personal camera. Only the very rich have their own cameras.

In the picture are two girls who are merchant class and two boys from the Seam. They're all in their late teens or early twenties. Looking at their faces I see the girl on the left looks a lot like Prim, her long blond hair is swept back over her shoulders. After closer inspection, I realize it's my mother! I recognize her from the Reaping tape of Haymitch's Games. Encasing her are the strong arms of a man who I would recognize anywhere, my father. She is beautiful, throwing her head back and laughing and he is looking at her with the most adoring face I've ever seen. On the ring finger of her left hand is a tiny pearl ring. They were already married when this picture was taken, I recognize the engagement ring. My mother has never taken it off.

Beside my parents is another couple. At first, I am confused because the girl looks so much like my friend Madge! After thinking, I realize it must be her mother, and her mother is wearing my mockingjay pin! Holding one of her hands is the second man and I recognize him as well. It's my mentor, Haymitch Abernathy!

But this pairing doesn't make any sense! Why would Madge's mother be with Haymitch when she married the mayor of District 12?

I feel my heart freeze in my chest as my hands fumble with the picture. I've noticed the neat printed caption at the bottom of the Polaroid; four little names that are staring up at me. The first three are understandable: Pricilla Everdeen, Kral Everdeen (Pricilla and Kral are my parents' first names), Haymitch Abernathy. The fourth name, only fourteen letters, makes me question a lot. Maysilee Donner is the last name printed.

Maysilee Donner should've been dead when this picture was taken, cruel, I know, but it's dated the year after Haymitch's Games, and her supposed death.

I'm shaking and can't make a sound, so I do the only thing I can think of. I slide out the letter from the envelope, ignoring the paper cutting against my thumb, and read on, to

uncover the mystery of the girl who I had believed to be dead until moments prior to now.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Still trembling, I unfold the aged letter with my fingertips. Dust floats into the dark air and I squint to make out tiny, neat handwriting dancing across the page. I fumble with a match to light a pearly white candle (some discovery of Gale's earlier). The slender wick bursts into a flickering orange flame. As the new light illuminates the letter I train my eyes back to it and begin to read:

"Dear survivors of District 13,

"I know when I met with you this summer; you wanted a detailed account of everything. You wanted to know how I am alive and everything about my sister and our plans for rebellion. Back then, I was too wounded by my loss. But now, I'm going to tell you everything."

Frantically, with my eyes glued to the parchment, I continue reading and delve into the mystery.

* * *

_It was a chilly, overcast day in District 12, which was strange considering the season. Maybe it was the Reaping aspect of the day that made the cold wind blow fright into everyone's hearts._

_On that particular afternoon, all the children from twelve to eighteen were corralled into the square, roped off from fretful parents and malicious, childless adults who spent their few coins betting on who would be sentenced to the arena this year._

_Amidst the tense crowd were Maysilee and Madylin Donner, eighteen year old twins with baby fine blonde hair and plain Jane pretty faces. On Maysilee's other side was Pricilla Glassy, the duo's best friend, who was also merchant class and decked out in a soft blue dress with her golden blonde hair braided atop her head._

_From a bird's eye view the three girls were just three pastel-coloured specks in the crowd of anxious citizens. Hands clasped, just like every Reaping Day, they listened to the announcer drown on and on about the Dark Days and the shining Capitol and how the Districts deserved everything they got. Finally, the speaker proclaimed it was time for the female tribute to be chosen._

_It seemed to take an eternity as the slender Capitol hand reached into the wretched glass ball and extracted a tiny slip of white paper. In District 12, having your name on that paper meant certain death; no one ever won. Maysilee, in her long pink dress, and Madylin, in her fluency white number, waited with baited breath. _

"_Andy Cooper!" called the speaker. A small thirteen year old girl from the Seam who must be Andy clambered forward. She had a sweet face and a freckled nose._

_The three merchant class girls breathed sighs of relief; pity was hard to come by on a Reaping Day. But they only smiled for a moment, for this was a Quarter Quell. The twist this year was that not one, but two of each gender would be thrown into the arena._

_The speaker stuck their hand into the ball of names again and says, "The second girl partaking in the 50__th__ Annual Hunger Games is, "_

_The girls shrank together, like they thought if they made themselves small enough they wouldn't be seen…they wouldn't be picked…_

"_Maysilee Donner!"_

_A shriek pierced the air. It was Pricilla's. She clutched Maysilee's arm and tried to shield her from the cameras. Madylin had completely shut down. Her eyes glazed over and her arms hung limply at her sides, it was a wonder that she stayed on her feet. Maysilee pried Pricilla's fingers, one by one, off of herself and walked nimbly up to the podium to stand shakily beside Andy Cooper, the thirteen year old Seam girl._

_Madylin, however, was still standing beside the weeping Pricilla, not hearing the boys' names being called (Haymitch Abernathy and Josh Shelding), because the gears in Madylin's mind worked furiously as she formed the final steps of a plan that she'd always thought about, but never had the guts to put into action. Now seemed like the perfect time. _

_Four nervous, newly chosen tributes were led to separate rooms in the justice building. Maysilee still couldn't fathom the idea of her death, which was a given. Frilly, flighty merchant girls weren't built for the arena. She wasn't even as smart as Madylin or as charismatic as Pricilla. She had no angle and she'd never see anyone she loved again. Maysilee's light blue eyes began to well up with saltwater._

_Maysilee had all but given up, but Madylin still had a frantic plan to save her sister. She raced through the remains of the anguished crowd, accidentally knocking over children and parents alike and not caring. Madylin busted into the room that caged her twin._

_Maysilee threw herself on Madylin, in teary hysterics. The other girl was breaking down as well._

"_Mady," choked Maysilee. "Mady, I don't know how to get through this!"_

"_I know, Mays. I know how, you have to promise to do everything I say!"_

_More tears dripped onto the cream velour carpet as Maysilee's dripping eyes grew wide with confusion._

"_What?"_

"_I love you, Mays. I want you safe. Please, just promise me!"_

There was a crazy edge to Madylin's voice and Maysilee didn't know what to do.

"_I…okay, I promise," she spluttered._

"_Good," said Madylin, who then peaked quickly out the window of the door, saw no one, and placed an antique wooden chair up against it, to serve as a lock._

_Maysilee gasped when her sister returned to her and yanked down the zipper of her dress while scrambling out of her own. Madylin threw her floaty white outfit at Maysilee._

"_You wear this!" she proclaimed._

"_Huh? Why?" asked Mays, but Mady had already helped/forced her out of her pink dress and donned it on herself, so Maysilee had no choice but to put on the white one._

"_We're switching. You're not going in the Games, I am." Madylin said._

"_Mady, no! I won't let you!" Maysilee clung to her sister._

_The girls were central to the room now, identical from the neck up, mirror images of each other. It was their biggest and last argument; who lives and who dies? What does one do when they're placed under that sort of predicament? Luckily, and unluckily at the same time, the girls never found out._

_The Peacekeepers had arrived to take out the visitor and leave the tribute, so, without knowing it, they decided who lived and who died. Since the girl in the pink dress was reaped from the name lottery, the girl in the pink dress was taken to the Capitol, and no one but Maysilee ever knew that Madylin was the real Donner tribute._

"_Remember your promise!" called Mady tearfully as Maysilee was carried out by the guards._

_Maysilee looked at her sister quizzically. How could she keep her promise (do everything Madylin said) if Madylin was far, far away with no means of communication._

_Madylin always had a plan._

_Before the doors closed between them forever, the sisters had one last exchange._

"_Come home alive," said Maysilee._

"_I will," said Madylin._

_But she only said that to calm Maysilee in their last moments together. Madylin wouldn't come back alive. She would be the first sacrifice of many for the greater good, for the rebellion._

_After Maysilee left that day, and after Madylin was escorted to the Capitol, even after the four District 12 tributes watched recaps of Reapings across Panem and saw the faces of their fellow forty four competitors, Madylin was alone in her room. It was then that she wrote down all her plans and all her ideas for defying the Capitol and sealed them within multiple manila envelopes. She didn't know how or when, but somehow, someone would get those envelopes to Maysilee. Then Maysilee would have a piece of Madylin when she was gone, and then, if all went according to plan, the Capitol would have a piece of her too._

* * *

"So there you have it. Why I survived and my sister died. Everything was my fault.

Yes I still have all Madylin's letters; Haymitch got them to me after the Games. I can't repeat everything they said in a letter, it would be too risky if this somehow wound up in Capitol hands.

The next time I meet with you, I'll bring the letters. For now, I wish you well.

Sincerely,

Maysilee Donner

Many questions race through my mind. Where is Maysilee now? Why Madylin just volunteer to take her sister didn't's place? Was there some way I could contact Maysilee to know more about her sister's plans for rebellion? With her smarts, my status as the mockingjay of this whole ordeal, and Madylin's letters on our side we could surely defeat the Capitol! We even have the district map! We have everything on our side! Things are looking up!

I imagine a world with no Capitol. It would mean no Hunger Games, no separating the districts, the survivors could leave their underground fortress, and the Avoxs could stop serving tributes as they prepared to die because there would be no tributes! Picturing all this happiness I remember that I would be free too, and so would Peeta, and so would Gale. There would be no Reapings to frighten the children. No children would have to die. My children, if I had any, would be safe. If only I could find Maysilee Donner-Undersee and get the helpful clues to take down the Capitol.

Then I have another realization. Maysilee must be Madge's mother. Crestfallen, I remember Haymitch's words on the helicopter:

"Madge's parents perished with the rest of District 12."

Maysilee is gone and, in my situation, that means so are Madylin's letters.

Looking back on Haymitch and my conversation, I remember another thing he did. Right after I caught on and said he had loved Maysilee, he nodded. Now I wonder which Donner twin did he think was Maysilee, and who did he really love?

As I ponder with gritted teeth, for I truly thought Madylin's letters could help me, I wonder what we'll do next. I guess Gale, Finnick, and I will do everything as planned. Leave for the helicopter base bright and early tomorrow morning. I start to shuffle back to Gale and my sleeping spot, letter still subconsciously in my left hand.

What happens next is fast and confusing, many events melded together into one chaotic moment.

There is a crash, a smash, and the sound of metal scraping on metal. A chainsaw slides through the fourth wall of our shelter in a surreal fashion. Not knowing what I'm doing, instinctively, I crumple up Maysilee's letter and shove it down my sock. A heavy duty flashlight beams into our sanctuary through the newly cut hole in the steal wall. I grab the closest lethal looking thing to me (in this case, the sharp lid of a tuna can) just so I'm armed. The beam of dusty light falls on Finnick, who scrambles up, looking wildly around for the source of all the noise, and Gale, who gets over to me as fast as his half-asleep legs can carry him.

That's when the intruders arrive. Four armed Peacekeepers, and not the nice kind, squeeze themselves through the hold in the wall. One holds an invisible mask. I recognize it to be the one I lost on my trip to the underground. The photo another Peacekeeper holds proves me right, it's my floating face suspended twenty feet from the ground. It must be from the tape right before I pressed my face into Gale's invisible body.

"Well, well, well," the biggest Peacekeeper, who I recognize to be the one that took over for Cray in District 12, says. "Looks like you can't hide from us this time, Ms. Everdeen. And it's a shame there's no one to sacrifice themselves for you either," he says, smirking a smirk of pure evil. "Unless," he casts his eyes to Finnick and Gale, who were on either side of me now. "Unless, the famous Finnick O'Dair or the handsome cousin would like to volunteer,"

The Peacekeepers raise their guns and slowly point them towards my allies. Enraged, I throw the jagged tuna lid at the former District 12 head Peacekeeper. It's a direct hit, right in between the eyes. The Peacekeeper goes down and the others hurriedly check if he's okay. Blood pours from his head wound, but he staunches it and slowly rises, apparently in pain. Good.

"We'll bring them to the President alive, it'll be more entertaining that way," he says with a grimace.

Before I can stop them, the other three Peacekeepers raise their guns, aim, and pull the triggers. Tranquilizers make contact with Finnick and Gale, and they're down. A third bullet comes whizzing at me in surreal slow motion. The muscle in my right arm screams when the tranquilizer embeds itself in the tissue.

Before I black out, I hear the Peacekeeper say one more thing.

"I wish those rebels could see their mockingjay now."

I wish they could too.

**So there's Chapter 8!! I hope you guys liked it, I can't believe I've reached 8 chapters! Can you PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE make my day and review?! I've been getting lots of story alerts/favorite story messages, which are great, but reviews let me know what you like and don't like! I'll take any criticisms and answer questions, anything! I just love reviews, and I don't get too many. If you like it…could you? Please? *puppy dog face***

Also if you wanna watch a funny THG vid on youtube, check out mine:

.com/watch?v=l_ZNRefvfo8


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry, the wait for this chapter was longer than I usually take! It's pretty beastly in length and epic proportions though, enjoy!**

Chapter Nine

We do fly to the Capitol by helicopter together that morning, just as we planned. Of course, the plan hadn't consisted of being unconscious, accompanied by four armed Peacekeepers, and being carried right to President Snow and whatever cruel fate he has planned for us.

I regain consciousness and think of the ordeal as a bad dream. I expect to roll over and find Gale, it's a wonder he hasn't woken me already as we're leaving for the copter base today. I will myself to get up but feel some paper in my sock. What could that be?

Then it all comes flooding back; the photo of my parents and Haymitch back in their younger days, Maysilee's letter, and, most importantly, our capture.

A familiar, horrible, frightening odor reaches my nose, it smells exactly like roses drenched in fresh blood. A creepy, manic, gleeful voice whispers out through the haze of the bad memories I associate with that scent.

"Rise and shine," it croaks.

I open my eyes slightly, chancing a glance even though I know who it is already. President Snow's face looms over me.

"It's nice to see you again, Katniss. After you made your little public break out from my arena, I was afraid we couldn't be friends. But here we are,"

My skin crawls at his statement and I try to discover where here is. We are in a high-tech guarded office with electric blue walls and a soft looking carpet. A shiny plaque mounted on the wall behind a big official-looking desk reads: "The Capitol: Selflessly guiding the districts to a bigger and brighter future." More like "The Capitol: Shamelessly killing the children for their entertainment."

We're obviously in Snow's office, what other place would have portraits of the previous Presidents lining the walls, with their sickly sweet rearranged features and plastered on fake smiles.

Snow has his own personal torture chair, which I am occupying. It sort of reclines and makes sure I stay upright and looking directly at Snow. Huge metal clamps bind my hands to the arm rests, my legs to the recliner, and my torso to the back.

I glare at Snow with anger in my eyes, trying to communicate all the nasty things I want to say, but can't. Why can't I? I swish my tongue around my mouth. Yes, I have a tongue! They haven't turned me into an Avox! But a sterile-tasting something has been wadded up and shoved in my open mouth, blocking speech.

I am trapped but I need to do something! I'm under the complete control of the President, I have no idea where Finnick and Gale are, or if they're alive, which scares me. Also, we're no closer to rescuing Peeta! There's no guarantee to the state he's in either… I've only been here for a little while and the Capitol's already messing with my head!

The President must see my anger in my furrowed brows because when he speaks, it's in a calming tone I see right through.

"I am a reasonable man," he says, his cold brown eyes boring into my loathing grey ones. "This is why I'm going to make you a proposition,"

I fight with my gag. I want to be able to speak so I can give him a piece of my mind.

"You see," continues Snow. "This rebellion you've caused is getting out of hand. So, you're going to work with us to stop it from continuing,"

My blood boils. I will never in any way, shape, or form, help the Capitol. I struggle with the gag some more.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me help you with that."

The President brings his hand forward to extract the cloth from my mouth with two careful fingers.

"We need to be able to discuss this. Not much to discuss really. You do what we want, or you don't and I kill your friends, your _cousin_, your _husband_, and your darling little sister Primrose."

When the evil man utters Prim's name, I lose it. I sink my teeth into his fingers. He draws his hand away quickly and crumples. The gag is gone now so I spit out the excess blood from my mouth.

"The Capitol will never control me again." I say with all the finality I can muster.

President Snow is still doubled over, nursing the bite on his fingers. I don't understand, it can't be that bad. He looks up to me with hatred.

"I was wrong. You will be more helpful dead,"

I struggle with the clamps that still bind me here as the President hobbles over to a pager looking thing on his desk. As his hand protrudes to press a button I see what's really going on with the cut.

My teeth marks are still miniscule but blood poured from them like they're fountains! It's very dark and blue-tinged. I've seen enough blood in my life to know that's not normal.

"Send up my remedy immediately," the President says rapidly into the PA system.

"Yes President, someone is attending to it now. How is the Everdeen situation?" says an official-sounding voice.

"She's a lost cause," says Snow, like I wasn't even here. "It'll be a live broadcasted execution I think, we need to get those rebels under control."

He grins as menacingly as he can while staunching the flow of the weird blood.

Snow curses as he waits for his "remedy" and I try my hardest to think of a plan that could let me survive and, more importantly, save the others.

There's a knock on the door.

"Get in here! Bring it to me!" President Snow says, with increasing rapidness.

The door creaks open and the shaky figure of a girl enters. A curtain of ginger hair shields her face and she carries a wine glass brimming full of some red glutinous liquid. The President races over to the girl, who's shaking so much droplets of red spill from the glass.

Snow greedily snatches it from her and guzzles it down. It is blood, I realize. When he drinks the red blood, the strange blue blood stops pouring out of his fingers.

But I'm watching the girl. I know her from somewhere, and when she pushes her red hair out of the way I know why. She's the redheaded Avox girl!

"Oh!" I say out of shock. She stares into my eyes and I can see her idea resonate on her face.

She runs up behind my chair and I see the clamps rise to release me. She must have triggered a mechanism I can't see to free me! Unfortunately, President Snow sees everything too. He drops his glass with a clatter and shards of glass and specks of blood explode on the floor.

Snow advances and I scramble out of the chair.

The smash of the glass still echoes in our ears as the Avox girl and I flee the President's office. The Avox grabs my wrist and leads me down the hall. She must have a plan; she'll definitely be killed for helping me if they get us. We can still hear Snow shouting for backup and screaming after us. Backup comes.

It's the Peacekeepers from earlier, but they've brought friends! At least a dozen armed men and women in their white uniforms emerge from doors in every direction. They all have their guns pointed at us, some leering in, but some looking grim.

It's now that I spot it, the ornamental sword that hangs decoratively on the wall. I make a swipe for it and the Peacekeepers react. Three of them shoot the dart like tranquilizers at us. I dodge them all, but the Avox girl isn't so lucky. One catches her in the shoulder.

Instinctively, I rip it out. She seems a little dazed, but not totally unconscious.

Meanwhile, the Peacekeepers are still circling us, guns raised. They must've been instructed not to kill us or we'd be dead already.

"Are you okay?" I ask the girl. She nods, still wide eyed.

I feel better armed with the sword.

"Don't move you two!" says a burly looking Peacekeeper.

Just then, Snow catches up with the commotion and is livid. His glossy hair is on end and his plump lips are pulled back in a scowl.

"What are you just standing there for?" he screams. "Sedate them!"

The Peacekeepers start to oblige. We dodge the shots that are flying, having to quickly rip a couple out of our flesh, while I slash the sword around. I've never been good with swords but this one has a nice curved handle so I manage to injure a few Peacekeepers. I grab a gun off one and throw it to the Avox girl.

"Take this!" I yell over the shouts and battling.

My real target is Snow. If I can just wound him again, the Peacekeepers will have no choice but to help him, right?

The Avox fends off the remaining Peacekeepers. Eight are standing; I have five on the floor, nursing cuts. I charge for Snow, sword raised, and strike. He moves so I only get him in the elbow, but it's enough. Blue blood starts pouring again and he screams.

I turn back to the Avox girl. She's knocked out three Peacekeepers and looks astonished. She's definitely more dangerous than she looks.

"Ahh!" screeches President Snow. "Help me you imbeciles! Help me!"

A pool of blue surrounds him.

The Peacekeepers look confused; they are torn between helping Snow now, or capturing us. I hastily shoot some more with another abandoned gun. The only two that remain try to shoot us, but first I slash them with the sword and steal their guns.

The President is still screaming so they reluctantly go to his aid.

As fast as I can I snake the sword through my belt and grab two guns. The Avox girl has two as well.

We race down the now bloody halls, yet again, with her in the lead.

"Where are we going?" I ask, even though I know she can't answer me. She just turns back and smiles. Genuinely smiles!

It's only a matter of time before more Peacekeepers will arrive, and I know they will, the Capitol's not going to let me escape again, but I'll damn well try!

The girl stops abruptly. She must have found what she was looking for. We're outside another door. The redheaded Avox girl peers in through a window on the door. The coast is clear, apparently, because she opens it and beckons me inside.

The first person I see is another redheaded Avox.

"Darius!" I exclaim and we embrace quickly.

"Where's my hug?" Finnick pouts.

"Finnick!" I say, hugging him too.

Whoever put Darius in charge of this guarding job definitely made a mistake. Darius has already released Finnick and Gale. Speaking of Gale, I see him standing in the room as well and wrap my arms around him.

"Easy there, Catnips," Gale laughs, hypocritically pulling me closer.

"Okay, so now that we're all together we need to come up with a plan. Snow gave me up on me helping him stop the rebellion, so he wants me dead. Plus I don't even know why he let you two live, I'm sorry but it's true," I spiel.

"You're right," Gale agrees, suddenly serious. "We need to get out of here!"

I'm aghast. "I didn't mean we have to get out of here, I meant we have to rescue Peeta!"

"And Johanna," Finnick adds.

Now Gale looks aghast. "We also need to get out of here alive and preferably in one piece!" he exclaims.

Finnick and I look at each other like he's out of his mind.

"Fine!" says Gale exasperatedly.

"Good," I smile. "Now I address the Avoxs. "Do you know if Peeta and Johanna are here?"

They nod.

"They are?" I ask eagerly.

They nod again.

"Can you take us to them?"

They nod a third time.

The five of us press up to the window in the door to check what we're up against. Sure enough, a few Peacekeepers are walking around, looking for us.

"We need to assemble what weapons we have," Finnick says, taking charge.

I present the ornamental sword and two guns. The Avox girl presents two guns, as well. Darius presents a knife.

In no time at all, we divvy up the goods. Both of the Avoxs, Gale and I all have guns. Darius has his knife along with the gun, and Finnick has the sword.

I'm starting to find it hilarious that we're here, in the most important, heavily guarded building in the Capitol, planning on rescuing the two most heavily guarded prisoners in Panem. At least, it seemed hilarious in my head. When I mentioned it to the others, no one laughed. Maybe it's just the hysteria of it all that's making me think this way.

"We're going to have to run fast, and get to where Peeta and Johanna are as quickly as possible," I say.

"Or, we could think of a better plan and cause a distraction," says Gale hopefully.

"We don't have the time," snaps Finnick. "It's now or never,"

I take a deep breath. We arrange ourselves behind the door, the Avoxs at the front.

"Ready?" Gale asks me.

"Set," I confirm.

"Go!" Finnick shouts.

The door is thrown open by Darius and we stream out into the hall. The Peacekeepers crowd around us and start shooting. The difference is, this time we can shoot back. Tranquilizers fly in every direction, Peacekeepers are falling and the sword is slashing about. Darius and the redheaded Avox girl are in the lead, racing against the clock to get us to our allies.

We've gotten pretty far ahead of the Peacekeepers and the Avoxs stop at an elevator so Gale, Finnick and I do as well.

Finnick smacks the button with his palm and all we can do is wait, with our weapons raised. The Peacekeepers are bolting down the hallway and we are stuck at a dead end waiting for an elevator. The seconds tick on and a finally the life doors open without a minute to spare. One particularly fast female Peacekeeper has caught up to us.

As we scramble into the elevator, she tried to join us the doors are closing but she's advancing quickly. Without further ado, I shoot a tranquillizer and she falls away, unconscious. The doors close.

Darius types some numbers into the control panel and we start moving down. The sensation of my stomach gently moving upwards, then back to it's normal positioning lets me know that we've reached the end of our journey.

"Weapons up!" Finnick warns. "They probably have someone guarding the door."

The doors open. They don't have anyone guarding. It's dark on this new floor, I think we're in the basement. We exit and move stealthily, still clinging to our weapons.

"Where to now?" I whisper to the Avoxs. They just beckon us forward and keep walking.

We reach another, this time big, room. The Avox girl leads to a new control panel, mounted on the wall beside the door. It asks for a password, which she somehow knows, so it activates.

Then, she hits the setting unlock door, followed by deactivate force field. Deactivate force field?

We open the door. Is this it? Will they be here or is it another stop along the way? The five of us walk in and I squint to see through the darkness until someone flicks on the lights. I don't know, or care, who turned them on, for a moment I forget about everything because there, chained to the wall with the same kind of clamps that bound me earlier, is Peeta Mellark.

"Katniss," he is saying, like he can't quite believe I'm there. "Katniss,"

I run to him and look into his blue eyes, encircled with their long blond eyelashes and I smile, genuinely smile!

The lines are so blurred with our relationship that I don't care anymore and am kissing him with my hands on the wall, either side of his chains. Peeta is kissing me back with as much passion as possible, even though both of his arms are immobilized. Mid-kiss I find the button that will undo his bindings and press it.

With his arms free, Peeta encases me. Our lips move together frantically, it's like I never realized how much I missed him until now. His lips are hot, but his tongue is cool. I like the sensation. He tugs lightly on my braid and I'm holding him as close to me as I can. Every time one of us tries to end the kiss, the other holds on. Neither of us tries very hard, though.

Right now, we are just Peeta and Katniss, with no cameras and no Games, no interviews or arenas. Just one big mob of Peacekeepers and an angry President who's trying to kill us, but what else is new?

We finally end the kiss, somehow mutually, and he smiles his warm, familiar smile. We can't stop touching each other, to make sure everything is real One of his big hands gathers both of mind, and he rests them on his chest. His other hand cups my cheek.

This is when I get a good look at him. There are dark circles under his eyes, the left one tinged with the green color that means he's recovering from a bruise. His parted lips are cut and a semi-healed swipe runs from his neck, past his collar bone, and then under his shirt so I can't see any more. I study it, tracing it with my finger, but Peeta tilts my chin back up at him.

"It's nothing," he murmurs.

He's become such a good actor that I almost believe him. But not quite, I'm probably the only person who can tell when he's lying. They've obviously hurt him.

"It's something!" I exclaim.

"Katniss, I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky you're alive. Right now, on the whole, I'm a pretty lucky guy."

I scowl. "This is my entire fault, everything! This!" I gesture around the room. "This!" I trace his battered face. "This!" I notice a deep gash in his right arm.

"None of this is your fault," Peeta says, looking into my eyes with the utmost sincerity. I just cling to him with all my strength. I can't bear to hurt this boy again, after I've hurt him so much in the past.

"I hate to ruin your little reunion," says the familiar voice of the always sentimental Johanna Masen. "But we have to get out of here. And this," she points out the gash I noticed on Peeta's right arm. "Was me,"

Peeta nods. "We had to get our trackers out somehow,"

Now I nod. I know the feeling.

Finnick has swaggered over here and the Avoxs are by our side, the only one missing is Gale.

That's when I here the crying, it's the soft whimpering of a girl that I somehow recognize. I look around and spot them. Gale and Madge. My mind refuses to comprehend. Gale and Madge! He's just gotten her chains off and she's crying into his chest. Why is she crying? They're whispering to each other.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Madge is choking out.

Gale is shushing her, trying to calm her down.

"You didn't even know they had me captured, too," Madge continues. "When they killed my parents," she sobs louder. "They took me here, I don't know why."

Madge is wearing her white Reaping dress but it's torn and stained. Her hair has long-fallen down from its ribbon.

"How did you even get here?" Madge asks quietly, still clutching to Gale.

Without a word, Gale points at me.

Madge, who's just noticed me for the first time, runs over and grasps m hands.

"Oh, Katniss! I'm so glad to see you!"

She hugs me.

"I'm so happy you're alive!"

I hug her back awkwardly, still trying to make sense of everything. I look from Madge to Gale, from Gale to Madge. Then Gale and my eyes meet. In his I see a weird emotion pattern, hurt, understand, and, was that anger?

He must be mad about me and Peeta. I've made everything worse and more confusing by kissing Peeta in front of Gale! I drop Peeta's hand but now he looks hurt so I pick it up again. I'm always hurting someone.

Then, Gale, deliberately not looking at me, pulls Madge to his side, leans in, and kisses her.

I don't understand! My brain is screaming. What's going on!

We've loitered here too long, and we all realize it when President Snow enters the room, followed by a fleet of Peacekeepers.

I automatically go into survival mode. Bullets fly and I somehow know that they're not tranquilizers this time. Our side's knocking down Peacekeepers left and dodging bullets right. Over it all, Snow is yelling.

"Nice try, Katniss! But now we don't need your friends alive as bait anymore! You came here, all on your own!"

This is too much. The battle's moved to the hall and we're running toward the nearest exit, if we could just get there.

As I shoot down Peacekeeper after Peacekeeper, I'm still thinking of Gale and Madge. Was this how it had always been? At the Quarter Quell when I was risking my life for the rebellion was Gale conniving around District 12 without a care in the world, alongside my best friend?

Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly see a bullet impact with skin and a redhead fall. I turn to see Darius on the floor.

"NO!" I scream.

The redheaded Avox girl screams too. I can't hear it but I see her lips open over her teeth, her tongue-less mouth wide and her blue eyes filling with tears. She scrambles down next to him and kisses his un-responding lips. I didn't know it was like that between them.

Before I can stop it, another Peacekeeper shoots. The redheaded Avox girl stops moving.

"NO!" I scream louder.

With Peeta, Finnick, Johanna, Madge, and Gale shooting to cover me I run to the two dead Avoxs. I lift them off to the side out of the battle's path and arrange their limbs so they could be sleeping.

Darius and the girl I don't even know the name of, but has helped me so much. Gone. Just like that. The world is a cruel place.

Finally, I slide the knife out of Darius' cold hand and charge at the Peacekeeper who killed him and his female counterpart. I slit the Peacekeepers throat then and there, then keep running with the others.

We run with our backs turned to the army, shooting randomly behind us. We reach the door finally and run out into the bright sunny day. It's the square outside of the President's house and people are out for their morning walks.

A young girl with pink skin and golden braids notices us first and screams. Then, everyone else notices.

I don't know what our plan was but as we run into the heart of the square, a miracle happens. A familiar helicopter with Plutarch flying it swoops in and hovers feet off the ground. A rope latter descends and we don't hesitate to clamber up. It could be a trap, but right now it's all we have.

The Peacekeepers are emerging now and the citizens are screaming. I try to help Peeta up the latter, due to his fake leg, but he waves me away and makes me go first, then uses his arms to pull himself in.

We close the latch of the copter and before I can comprehend why, Peeta's arms are around me from whatever's coming. Then I understand. Bullets crash through the glass windows. Madge screams but is safe because Gale has her under the same kind of hold Peeta has me in.

The copter takes off and we speed away. We have little time before the Capitol's helicopters will be chasing us.

I don't know how Plutarch found and saved us but right now that's the least of my worries.

Two more people died today and it was my fault, again. And now I just have to hope no one's added to the tally.

**I hope you enjoyed! Also, I hope it wasn't too rushed, I needed to fit a lot in and it had to be only one chapter or it would wreck the flow! This is the end of Part One, PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Reviews make it good in this hood :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! I wrote this chapter off and on the five hour drive back from my March break vacation, so it was hard to decipher my writing to type up, because of all the turning xD**

I hope you enjoy, remember to review when your done please! 

Chapter Ten

I can see a bird's eye view of chaos as I look out the window of the helicopter. Mobs of colorful civilians look up at us, some are shouting. Peacekeepers are trying to retain order and big black cars are pulling in from every direction. Of course, they're still shooting at us with huge new guns, but we're well out of range, therefore safe until Capitol helicopters arrive.

The first thing I do when we're temporarily out of harm's way is consult Plutarch.

"Thank you," I say to him. "That's the second time you've saved my life,"

But Mr. Heavensbee just looks grim.

"They're still after us," he says darkly.

"I know," I say, matching his tone.

"How did you even find us?" Madge asks in a hushed tone. She and the others have gathered around Plutarch and I.

"The Capitol isn't the only place that uses tracking devices,"

I gasp but know I shouldn't. People using me in their little games shouldn't come as a surprise and I owe Plutarch too much to start shouting at him. Gale, however, speaks.

"If you knew where we were, why didn't you come get us earlier? We were just sitting around in the justice building for a whole day,"

To these words, Plutarch looks at Gale, almost angrily.

"I couldn't have risked any more lives on the silly whims of you three, Mr. Hawthorne."

Now I'm angry. Silly whims? I was saving innocent lives! I tense, something I only do on two occasions; when I'm hunting and when I'm upset or angry. Today, it's the later. Plutarch must be able to tell.

"What you did was very heroic; Katniss, but you didn't think it through,"

Why is everyone treating me like this, like I'm some sort of tragic hero who is brave, but not intelligent enough to follow a plan.

"I think it worked out pretty well!" says Finnick, gesturing to Peeta, Johanna, and Madge. "We even scored a bonus," he points out Madge by putting his arm around her. "Hey," he says, offering a hand. "I'm Finnick,"

Madge shakes it and looks at me with wide blue eyes.

"Ignore him," I advise.

"Anyways," says Plutarch. "Yes, I'm very glad you are all okay, but you can't go gallivanting off whenever you like, not when there's a war going on!"

My jaw drops. I knew there was a rebellion and uprisings and resistance, but war?

"Yes," Plutarch answers my silent question. "The Capitol has declared war against us. They still have no idea where the Underground is, but it's still serious. President Snow said it on a live broadcast. "Anyone who was involved with the break out from the Quarter Quell and anyone who is part of the uprisings can consider themselves at war with the uprisings can consider themselves at war with the Capitol"." Plutarch quotes.

"So, basically, Dark Days Part two?" asks Gale.

"Yes," Plutarch agrees.

"But everything's okay, right?" I panic, thinking of my mother and Prim.

"Yes, everyone is fine at the underground. Like I said, the government still doesn't know about it," Plutarch tells me. But something is still wrong.

"My mother and Prim aren't in the Underground!" I splutter. "You said!" I prod Gale. "You said that they are in District 11!"

"They are!" Gale says defensively. "I told you I-"

Plutarch cuts him off.

"District 11," he muses. "They have a very good system for the rebels there,"

"That's what I said!" Gale says exasperatedly.

"They should be safe there," Plutarch continues.

I blanch.

"They _should _be safe there?" I want to be absolutely sure my family is safe.

Finnick notices my white face and walks over. "Chill, Kat," he says casually, and begins massaging my shoulders. I roll my eyes, scowl still in place and still thinking of my family.

"I have something that might assure you of their safety," says Plutarch helpfully, brandishing what seems to be a letter. "It's addressed to you, Katniss, from your sister I believe. In fact, some of the Underground citizens went to visit District 11, for supplies and such. Haymitch told me they came back with this and wanted me to drop it off. It makes perfect sense. I didn't want to read it, because it's not addressed to me…"

I snatch the letter and rip it open. I begin to read but end up just skimming it, I'll look at it in-depth later. They are safe, it says, and I can imagine Prim's small, warm hand writing it in the company of all of Rue's sisters. It's only after I finish skimming page two that I remember to murmur a thank you to Plutarch.

"So, now where are we going?" Peeta asks politely. I'd almost forgotten he was there, ever-present in our tight-knit group, still holding my hand. I give his fingers a squeeze and he strokes the back of my hand with his broad thumb.

"We're going to District 13," answers Plutarch.

"Yes!" Johanna punches the air. "Thanks for breaking us out of that hell hole, by the way," she adds, mainly to Finnick, her enhanced eyeteeth glinting.

"So it really exists," Peeta says in awe, referring to D13.

"Of course it does," Gale scoffs, sounding like he could've added a "you idiot" to the end of his sentence. But I personally know he had his doubts about the underground district as well.

"Oh, you'll love it Peeta!" I exclaim and go into telling him all about the survivors and Mayor Wanthope and Cinna being alive, even the caves. I know a fraction of what there is to know about the Underground, having only been there for one day, but I'm eager to learn more. I like the underground district because it's full of people dedicated to the same goal: taking down the Capitol. I also tell Peeta about the Underground being built off of an old arena, Johanna listens, too. I don't want them to have the unsettling feeling Haymitch, Finnick and I had.

As we talk, we drift to the sitting area of the copter and lounge around. We rescuers are really tired from the exertion of everything, but all the rescued want to do is walk around to stretch. Johanna is a no-show pretty early in to the chatting session, Madge excuses herself shortly after. I can tell Peeta wants to move around, but is trying to stay with me.

"Go on," I tell him.

He looks at me as if to say "really?"

"Go! Get out of here!" I joke. He laughs.

"Okay,"

Then he kisses my cheek and walks out onto the observation deck with the other two.

Now it's Gale, Finnick and I in the room, just like old times and by old times I mean a couple of days ago. There's certain awkwardness in the air, and Finnick's not a contributing factor.

"So," I say to Gale. "You and Madge…"

"You and Peeta," he retorts angrily.

I sigh and try to stay calm. "What about me and Peeta?"

When I say it, it comes out clipped.

"You're in love?" Finnick offers.

"I'm not in love with him," I say calmly, but am livid inside, still at Gale for…I can't think of a word yet. Is it called cheating if you were never together? Not really… "I'm not in love with him," I repeat without knowing who I'm repeating it for.

"Sure, Katniss!" Gale splutters. "That's why you were all over him earlier!" he's yelling now.

"I was not all over him!" I say indignantly

"Okay…" Gale says sarcastically as Finnick nods. Why is Finnick on Gale's side all the sudden?

"Well, if you want to talk about who was all over who, I suggest we talk about your little stunt with Madge!" my voice rises as I stand up.

"There's nothing going on between me and Madge!" says Gale, also standing.

"Okay…" I say, matching his sarcastic tone from earlier.

"Why would you care if there was, anyways," Gale says.

I look hurt. "We can't pretend you have no feelings towards me," I say quietly.

Gale flushes, "What, do you think I'm in love with you or something?"

This is just too much. "Gee, Gale. What would make me think that? Hmm…Maybe, you having told me!"

"Times have changed, Katniss," he says harshly.

No nickname, maybe times really have changed. Gale and I are nose to nose now, staring angrily at each other.

"Is it because there's something between you and Madge?" I ask icily.

"There's nothing between me and Madge!" Gale shouts, frustrated.

"Then why'd you kiss h-"

Gale cuts me off by crushing his mouth on mine, mid-sentence. His tongue forces entry and his lips move against mine. I don't kiss back, but I don't protest either. If I did I don't know if it would help the situation anyway.

"You're right, like always. I am in love with you," he says fiercely after finally releasing me.

I look up into Gale's gray eyes, so much like my own, and wonder what I can say to him now.

All I end up doing is excusing myself and going out onto the observation deck with the others. I feel bad leaving him hanging like that, but I have some stuff to figure out too. For example, I have letters to attend to. First, I read Prim's in full and am touched by what she has to say. She misses me just as much as I miss her and she's mainly just glad I beat the odds to get out of the arena again.

I go to shower before I consult the second; I need to wash off the blood from the rescue. Taking off my socks, I pull out the page that I ripped out of the MJS diary that was written by Maysilee Donner so many years ago. The real Maysilee is gone, so I can't ask her if she still has her sister Madylin's letters that document the plans for the rebellion, but there's still someone who may know something and is within reach; Madge.

The rest of the day passes quickly; I get cleaned up, catch up with the rescued, and spend the majority of the time cuddled up and talking to Peeta. Gale and I only have polite, if not overly formal, interactions that don't suggest anything happening. Of course, Gale glares at Peeta and I when we're together but that's really old news. I don't ask about Madylin's letters yet because I don't know who should know how much about that whole ordeal.

Plutarch summons us for dinner, which is more or less like the food we were fed in D13. He obviously hasn't been to the Capitol recently. We make small talk around the table, but all I really want to hear about is any advancement in the rebellion. Unfortunately, I don't think my brain is in a fit state to retain any important information. I'll ask in the morning after a good night's sleep.

A few more hours roll by and I start to yawn more frequently.

"Tired?" Peeta asks, smiling amusedly at me. We're sitting on a couch in the common area, me with my feet curled to the side and my head on his shoulder, just as I'd done countless times before.

"No," I answer, but have to stifle another yawn that decides to surface at the most inconvenient time.

"Okay," Peeta laughs. "You're just as bad a liar as I remember. Maybe it's time for you to get some sleep."

I scowl. "Really, Peeta, I'm perfectly awake,"

Sadly, that's the time my body decides is bet for yet another yawn. I chance a glance at the round clock n the wall. It says eleven o'clock.

"Maybe I could sleep," I admit to Peeta sheepishly.

I stagger upwards and he releases my hand reluctantly. I plod off to Plutarch who's taken the plane off autopilot and is flying it instead, purely for something to do.

"Um, Plutarch. I was just wondering where you wanted us to sleep."

Plutarch turns away from the control and flicks autopilot back on.

"Oh, so sorry, Katniss, right this way,"

People from the Capitol, even if they're on our side, are always so overly formal. Back in the days of District 12 if you'd asked a question like mine the person would just point at a bed, or maybe even the floor, and say "there". Anyone from the Capitol, on the other hand, has to show you the exact place and tell you everything about it.

Plutarch has led me to the common area again. Peeta is still on the couch, but the others have filtered in and they're watching some show on the television.

Plutarch gestures to three doors that branch off of the sitting room that I had noticed, but not taken account of.

"There are three bedrooms available, and with six of you that's two to a room," he articulates.

Its simple math but the others are listening to now, after Gale turned off the TV and there were audible "Hey, I was watching that!'s from Finnick and Johanna. There's a pregnant pause.

"We'll take that one," Finnick gestures to the far right door and Johanna nods.

"We'll take..?" Peeta begins, but I cut him off.

"No!"

Finnick and Johanna, Peeta and I, that leaves Gale and Madge and I do not want to think about that.

"I mean…" I try to recover from my outburst. "Me and Madge should room together because, sometimes, we have to have girl time and talk about…stuff…" I finish lamely.

"Oh well its okay if you want to be with Peet-"Madge says but I grab her arm to silence her and start leading her to our new room.

"Come on, Madge!"

We leave the common area with Peeta and Gale glaring at each other. Before the door closes I hear Johanna saying, "Katniss sure hasn't changed much," and guffawing with Finnick. It does nothing for my mood. Then Plutarch sighs and mutters something that sounds like "teenagers". Over the door creaking shut, I hear Finnick shouting, "I'm twenty four!"

Finally, there is silence and it's just Madge and I. Madge is quiet as ever, but now that she's cleaned up I can see the marks I had thought were dirt on her face are actually bruises. Also, earlier we both changed into different clothes because ours were so dirty. Wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cotton pants instead of the puffy Reaping dress I discover she's skin and bones. All three of the former prisoners are like that.

Madge and I aren't the talkative types so when we sit down on the bed it's a long time before either of us says anything.

"What's the matter, Katniss?" she asks me.

"Nothing," I say quickly, too quickly.

Madge is the only person I can talk freely with, except for Cinna, of course. Because of this, when she looks at me with her wide blue eyes, I can't not tell her.

"What is there between you and Gale?" I ask.

Madge looks taken about for just a second, but then crosses her legs so she's sitting looking down at me.

"Well," she says. "That depends…on what there is between you and Gale."

Now I bury my face in a pillow.

"Madge! That was not the answer I was hoping for,"

Madge and I are also not the kind of girls who talk about boys, so this is a stretch for us.

"Today was the first time we kissed, I swear," she says sincerely. "I thought he might see me like that for a while, but after the ways I say him look at you, I don't know anymore. I don't even know why he kissed me; I think it was to make you jealous."

"Oh," is all I can say. So they really weren't frolicking all over the place when I was fighting to the death. But Gale was leading on Madge, in a way, and I don't know how I feel about that.

"I didn't even know you liked him like that," Madge interjects.

"I don't know if I do. I can't tell any more,"

Madge plays with a thread on the blanket. "You know, I don't think you do. And it's not just because I do,"

Now I look confused. Madge is observant, but her thinking she knows my choice before I make it is a little extreme.

"Thanks, Madge," I say.

She looks puzzled. "For what?"

"I don't know, for staying alive."

With that we fall asleep.

Suddenly, I'm awake again. I just had a nightmare involving Peeta still being captured at the Capitol and my rescue mission failing. I tremble and spot Madge, asleep with a golden halo of her hair spread across her pillow. If we rescued her, Peeta must be here too. But the dream was so vivid.

My feet carry me out the door and my hands reach for the knob to the left. It's the boy's room, just the destination I wanted.

I search for Peeta's face and when I don't see it at first I panic. Then, I spot him on the floor with a blanket and pillow. Really, those boys are ridiculous.

"Peeta!" I whisper, "Peeta!"

His eyelids flutter open and I creep over to him.

"Hey," I whisper.

"Hey," he whispers back, a little disoriented, but not asking question. "You do this a lot."

"Do what?"

"Sneak into my room in the middle of the night, unexpectedly."

Even in darkness, I'm sure he can see my scowl.

"Don't worry, I like it,"

I can see his grin in the darkness, too.

Just then, Gale stirs. We both turn our heads to make sure he's not awake.

"You should get out of here," Peeta murmurs.

"You're coming with me."

I move backwards as Peeta scrambles out of his makeshift bed and attaches his fake leg, which was resting against the wall, onto his real leg which is cut off just below the knee. I cringe; I still think that leg's my fault.

"Don't worry about it," he says and we tiptoe out of the room.

Soon we are sprawled across the couch again, this time with a blanket.

"So what's up, love?" Peeta asks.

I sigh, the way he addresses me raises another problem.

"I had a nightmare. You were still in the Capitol, and I couldn't rescue you," I fret.

"I thought I was the one who had the nightmares. You don't have to worry; it was only a dream,"

I sigh again. "I'm scared Peeta. I keep hurting you, and you keep taking me back. I don't even know what to feel."

I'm referring to my still unresolved feelings towards Peeta.

"Katniss, I gave up on reality a long time ago. I'll take you real or fake, truthful or pretending. I just want to have some piece of you,"

His words break me because he's proven that I do hurt him but he'll always be good to me anyway.

"I don't think I'm pretending, not truly," I say in a small voice.

Peeta looks down at me and brushes a stray hair from my neck.

"I love you." he says, still tracing patterns across my back.

"I-"I splutter with contradiction in my eyes.

"It's okay," Peeta murmurs. "You don't have to say anything."

He knows I can't, I'm too bound to other things and occupied by awesome movements.

"So," he switches the subject. "Did you and Madge have fun with your "girl time"?"

I don't say anything.

"I know you roomed with her so she couldn't be with Gale," Peeta prompts.

"Yeah," I admit.

"What did you and Madge do? Braid each other's hair? He smirks.

"No," I scoff.

Peeta lifts up my usual braid, points and says "evidence!"

I bat his hands away and roll my eyes, but end up snuggling back up to him again. It's so simple being with Peeta. Now that he's back I remember how I stayed sane all those times when something disastrous happened. The only time I really lost it was when he was in the Capitol.

"Darius and the Avox Girl," I say without meaning to.

"I know," says Peeta. "They were good people, they didn't deserve to die."

I nod. "Did you know they loved each other?"

"I suspected it," says Peeta. "They always volunteered to bring us our food and tried to visit us."

I didn't know that. There's so much I don't know, I realize suddenly, and it scares me. Darius and the Avox had something but the Capitol got them before they could do anything about it. I clutch Peeta tighter.

"Her name was Tacey," Peeta says quietly.

Tacey, it suited her. Tacey and Darius had given their lives for the rebellion and I'd make sure they were avenged.

"Peeta?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Promise me something,"

"Sure, anything."

I bite my lip, then say what's been on my mind.

"Don't die."

Peeta strokes my hair.

"Oh, Katniss…"

"Promise!" I say a little too loudly.

"Okay, I promise."

**Okay, so there it is! I know this chapter is filler-ish but sometimes you've gotta slow it down so it's not all *BATTLE* *BATTLE* *DEATH* *DEATH* all the time (;**

Fun Fact: Tacey (Avox Girl's name in my brain) is a Latin name that means "be silent". I thought it would fit her because with her tongue cut out she is forced to be silent all the time.

**Review??? :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The first thing I feel when I wake up is warmth. The streaming sunlight from the large windows of the helicopter cast beaming rays across my back. The sun is so strong that I can feel its heat perfectly through my t-shirt. I open my eyes a mite and can see the huge entity that is the sun shining behind the nearest window. It looks level with the helicopter, though I know that's just an optical illusion. A glance at the clock tells me that we've slept in late; it's before noon, but barely.

The two other sources of warmth are the blanket, which has shifted so it's leaving my back and shoulders uncovered, and Peeta, whose arms are still around me, even in slumber.

I feel peaceful, like the world is giving me a moment of normalcy and simplicity. I set my gaze on Peeta's face and stare at his parted lips, wavy, blond hair, and unfathomably long eyelashes in turn, enjoying the lazy late morning. No one is around, they must be sleeping too.

I have just one more second to bask in the gloriousness of it all before I hear the yelling. Very angry yelling that seems to be coming from an electronic device, judging by the feedback it was emitting.

"-don't know why she thinks she can make the plans! She could've exposed us! You're sure no one's tailing you?" The voice then rang out a string of profanities.

"Haymitch, Haymitch, calm down. I'm not happy about the way they executed it either, but everyone seems to be alright, Peeta, Johanna, the Undersee girl…No one's following us right now but I'm expecting more Capitol copters anytime. There was a chase last night and I had to shoot down a couple planes. We sped over 4, that was a hassle, and now I'm taking a detour. Currently somewhere over the Pacific," I hear Plutarch's voice say.

There was a chase last night? We're somewhere over the Pacific? Haymitch was supposed to be in District 13, how was Plutarch talking to him?

Just then, I see Plutarch wander across the hall with a phone in his hands. He stares at the phone and appears to be talking to it. So that was how.

"When will you arrive? There's a lot I have to tell Katniss," Haymitch continues.

"With this detour it's a six day journey, I expect a lot of double backs to keep off the followers as well."

Haymitch swears. "Can I talk to her now?"

I see Plutarch walk towards Peeta and I and hastily try to feign sleeping. But I'm not fast enough.

"Yes, she's awake."

I stare wordlessly at Plutarch and he mouths, "Sorry". Plutarch quickly looks from the doors of the separate rooms that Peeta and I are supposed to be sleeping in, to our couch, but makes nothing of it. He just plugs the phone thing into the TV and faces it's camera towards the couch.

With a flourish, the TV screen flickers and then shows Haymitch, looking rugged as ever with an empty white liquor bottle in hand. He must be able to see me too because his grey eyes are set on my own. And he's angry.

I am still dazed, having just woke up, still in my pajamas, and still lying on top of Peeta, who miraculously stayed asleep through the raised voices. I smile weakly.

"WHY MUST YOU COMPLICATE EVERYTHING?" he bellows.

My smile turns to a scowl quickly as I say, "I wasn't complicating anything, I was saving lives!"

At my loud words (though somehow not Haymitch's), Peeta finally jolts awake. He's disoriented at first, just like I was, shaking his blonde hair out of his startlingly blue eyes.

"No, Katniss, you have to learn you were endangering them!" Haymitch continues his yelling.

Peeta looks around for the source of the noise, and discovers it.

"Haymitch!" he annunciates, his face breaking into a heartwarming smile. Haymitch smiles back, a little, but then continues yelling at me.

"Were you really blind enough to think we weren't going to rescue them?" Haymitch asks indignantly.

I splutter.

"Well we did have a plan!" thunders Haymitch. "And it didn't involve you, wonder why that was…"

His eyes look at me. They're hard, unsettling.

I snap. "I'm sure I've proven that I can help with the rebellion!"

I'm seething now, and taking quick, shallow breaths. I can't stand being on the outs after they made me feel in control. I'm sick of being a wind-up toy.

Peeta is trying to sooth me, petting my hair and making shushing noised.

"Don't shush me!" I snap again, and then turn back to Haymitch, who is now talking to Peeta.

"I'll never know how you put up with that one," he says.

"You should stop yelling at her," he retorts.

Haymitch breathes in deeply and tries to stay calm. "There are things you need to know," he directs seriously at me. "Things both of you need to know, really,"

This statement both intrigues and worries us. I wrestle to kick off the blanket and Peeta helps me off of him so we're sitting side by side on the edge of the cushions, leaning in to hear whatever Haymitch has to say.

"Since the rescue, things in the Capitol are even worse. They've always been after you two, because you ignited the flame that caused the rebellion, consciously or not. But now you've defied them right under their nose, making them look stupid. Snow likes his pride, so now he's after you personally. Very personally…"

I gulp. "What more can they do to us?" I ask in a choked voice.

"Not you specifically," Haymitch says with shifty eyes. The swig he takes from another alcohol bottle has a certain ominous effect.

My pupils dilate. I understand.

"No!" I shout. "Not our families! Not Prim!"

"Nothings set in stone." Haymitch says cryptically, which just makes me more hysterical.

"What exactly isn't set in stone?" Peeta asks over my scared silence.

"There have been rumors…" Haymitch begins.

I lose my temper. "Spit it out!" I shout.

"We think the Capitol is going to try to rig the 76th Hunger Games so Prim is chosen as tribute."

His words seem to echo around the room, hanging in the air. At least, they're still ringing in my ears. I'm faintly aware of Peeta steadying me as I lose my balanced position at the end of the couch. I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach and I am sure my eyes are huge, round saucers.

This is the one thing I could never imagine happening, the one line I could prevent the Capitol from crossing, the one live I was capable of saving. Could. Could I save her this time? How could I volunteer without exposing myself? But exposing me wasn't the problem. I would die for Prim, and in this situation that really was the cost. The problem was, how could I expose the entire colony of District 13 to save my little sister?

Yet, volunteering wouldn't help this time. The odds aren't in my favor. I don't even know when or how they will get Prim or the Reaping will take place. The poor girl doesn't even have a District anymore, for crying out loud! The Capitol destroyed her home.

Districts, District 11. Prim is in District 11! Is she okay?

These thoughts rouse me from the horrified stupor that has slipped over me, just like a suffocating, gloved Capitol hand. Voices are talking to me. My head is pounding.

"Katniss, Katniss!" Peeta says my name with repetitive urgency.

Haymitch is spieling off information to him so fast that, in my current state, I can't take it all in and just catch snippets.

"…not confirmed yet…District 11 stronghold is still safe…"

Not confirmed yet…he must be talking about the Games and Prim's fate. How could they be confirmed yet when the last Hunger Games just ended, and prematurely at that. Plus, they always hold the Games in the summer months, usually August. Right now it's early September.

District 11's okay, for now. That's a relief. I fumble to try and make sound from my lips form words. Haymitch and Peeta are worried about me and I can't have that. I can't lose my head either, not if I want to think up a plan that'll save Prim.

"Tell her that her sister's okay, currently," says Haymitch. "That will snap her out of it."

I feel Peeta's lips brush against my ear as he repeats Haymitch's words but I still can't speak. I'm still shell-shocked.

"Is she even breathing?" Haymitch asks incredulously.

I'm still thinking about what they said, how my sister is safe, currently. Currently, the word makes me cringe. Like Prim's safety is in jeopardy, it isn't a constant. All of that is true, but I don't want to hear it.

"Yes, she's breathing!" Peeta answers. "Katniss, Katniss,"

I finally manage to open my eyes. Peeta kisses me, steady and constant, like always, and simultaneously pulls me into a sitting position from the place where I fell. It's a quick kiss; there are still important things to discuss.

"If only you two could've been this in love when that's all Snow wanted," I hear Haymitch mutter and am not entirely sure he meant for us to hear it.

I can't explain to Haymitch that I don't know what I feel toward Peeta, we don't have the time. I'm upset that Haymitch is blaming everything on my acting ability or my uncontrollable emotions.

"I'm sorry," he softens. "None of this is your fault."

"That doesn't change the fact that they're going to try to put Prim in the next arena!" I say, clutching Peeta for support.

"Katniss, I don't think you should be worried. One of the spies in the Capitol just told us that Snow mentioned it in a meeting. He thought it would be a good way to get you to do whatever he wants," says Haymitch.

"He's right," I say dejectedly.

"You can't think like that!" Haymitch shouts angrily. "That's exactly how people die! They give up trying. Do you want to die, Katniss?"

Haymitch runs a hand through his dark, receding hair. I think about his question. Just me alone, I don't know if I want to die. So far I'm just living because I know certain people would be upset if I went and got myself killed. So far I'm just living for something to do, and so far I can't tell if the pros outweigh the cons.

"I…I don't know." I answer, even though it wasn't a meant to be answered question.

"Don't say that!" Peeta nearly shouts his blue eyes full of sadness. He's right; I need to get my head screwed on right. I pull myself together.

"What's the plan then, if I'm so incapable of making my own," I ask Haymitch.

"Your sister is under the highest protection in District 11. It's too dangerous to transfer her to the Underground right now, but if the time comes when we can, we will."

"Does she know?" I ask.

"No," Haymitch answers.

I'm about to protest that they should've told her, until I realize that, many months before, I wouldn't want to know that my name would be drawn at the Reaping.

"If all goes well, she won't need to," Haymitch continues. "We're assembling an army in D13. We're going to try to injure the Capitol enough that they won't have time to worry about the Games. And then, we'll wipe them out for good.

I gulp and Peeta asks, "How will we do that?"

"District 13's job was to provide nuclear bombs for the Capitol. They still have a few of those suckers that we can use when the time comes."

I get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Plotting to destroy an entire city isn't something I do on a daily basis.

"You'll be told more detailed plans when you arrive in five days," Haymitch says. He reaches forward and it looks like he's going to press the button that will disconnect our call.

"Wait!" I shout with urgency, struck by a sudden inspiration. "What do you know about an MJS diary?"

I know he knows a lot, I'm setting him up.

Haymitch balks. "You mean the MockingJay Society? How could you know about that?"

I briefly explain how I found the book in the District 13 justice building and how I saw the photo with him in it. Through this, Peeta looks at me with questioning eyes, this is all new to him. I'll have to explain it later.

After my little speech, Haymitch looks wistful, and happy, but mostly sad. He drains another bottle and then says, a little drunkenly, "Well, sweetheart, I know a lot about that."

Then the TV goes black.

Peeta and I only have a moment to stare at each other, awestruck by all the information we've just received, before Madge emerges from the room she and I were supposed to share. She's still wearing the huge white nightshirt Plutarch lent her for sleeping and her blonde hair is piled atop her head in a messy chignon. She's obviously had a late morning as well.

"Katniss," she says in a clear voice. "I need to talk to you,"

"Okay," I say, confused by her formality. "I should get dressed, too."

I murmur a "see you later" to Peeta and then Madge and I retreat to our room.

"I wonder where everyone is," I say casually.

"Well, Plutarch is flying the helicopter and I heard the others making a racket earlier, they're probably on the observation deck or the kitchen or something," says Madge loftily.

It's shocking that no one heard all the shouting, yelling, and, in my case, falling off couches from this morning.

In the privacy of our room I change into an orange blouse I found in one of the dressers that's close to my size, and some black pants. I fasten my pin to the collar of the shirt and re-braid my hair.

When I turn back round Madge's changed too, into a blue button up shirt she must have found and pants similar to mine. She drags a brush through her blonde curls, now loose around her face, and whispers something to me. I have to strain to hear it, she's being so quiet.

"I heard you talking about my aunt."

So she heard me say the name Maysilee Donner when I was discussing the MJS notebook with Haymitch. Madge called Maysilee her aunt, but really she is her mother. I wonder which Donner twin she really means.

"Oh," I say.

"I'm kind of confused," Madge continues. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but it sounded like you were talking about her as if she was alive, after her Games. That's impossible, right?"

So Madge never knew. I don't feel like explaining it again, and I don't think it's my place to, so I cross the room to the dresser I set the page from the journal in. I take it out and silently hand it to Madge.

As she reads I see her eyes well up with tears.

"I never knew," she trembles. "I never knew and now she's gone…now she's dead!"

Madge bursts into tears and I try to comfort her as best as I can. So, behind the battlefields and enemy lines, this is what war feels like. I let her blubber into my shoulder until she speaks again.

"It all makes sense. My mother has a stack of letters from Aunt Maysil- I mean Aunt Mady…"

"Did you ever read them?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"No," says Madge. "Mom didn't like when I asked about them. She just muttered things like "my entire fault". And she was mostly always sick," she hiccups.

"Maybe it'll make you feel better to talk about her," I say cautiously. "Did she ever say anything about her sister…Or the rebellion?"

"Not really," says Madge. "But she did some weird things,"

"Like what?" I prompt.

"When you were Reaped, she told me to give you the mockingjay pin, she said it was really important…And your stylist Cinna, she knew him. Whenever he came to D12 she made herself get up to talk to him. Same with Plutarch! Also, whenever Daddy went to District 11 for conferences, she went to."

I nod. I can't see how those pieces fit the puzzle, but maybe I am just being short-sighted. Suddenly, Madge looks at me with manic eyes.

"It's getting worse!" she says. "After you rescued us I thought it would be better, because there's no torture or anything. And it is in that way. But now it's war. And people are dying. I try to be strong like you, Katniss, but I'm not strong like you."

"You are strong, Madge. Usually I'm just acting, Peeta even said I'm not very good.

I manage a small smile.

A few days pass uneventfully with no more heart to hearts with Madge, but crazy antics from Finnick and Johanna, formal silences, occasional glares, and wistful glances from Gale, and the usual Peeta keeping me sane.

It's the fifth day of our journey when the next big thing happens. Surprisingly, we've ditched all the Capitol copters that were following us, with a few memorable chases.

Right now, I'm sitting in one of the fold-out chairs on the observation deck with Finnick. Somehow, he and I have built up a real friendship. After five days on the same helicopter we've run out of things to do, so we've resulted to watching clouds. Seriously.

"That one looks like a duck," I say half-heartedly, pointing in the direction of the duck cloud.

"No, more like a rabbit," Finnick says.

"Yum, rabbits," I laugh.

Just then, Peeta, Madge, and Gale join our party and walk promptly to the edge of the deck. For one wild seconds I think they're going to jump because they walk there with such purpose and determination. But they don't, they just lean over the little fence and look down.

"What's going on?" I ask curiously.

"Plutarch just told us," Gale begins tersely. "We're flying over District 12. Or the place where District 12 was," he corrects himself.

I automatically join my fellow citizens at the ledge. The scene below is distorted and heartbreaking. The foreground is just misty clouds, so it's the background I squint to see. It's like a burnt spot on the land, black and sooty, and all the trees surrounding are burnt to a crisp, or dead. That's all you can see from here, but I can't even tell it's the same place anymore. There really is no District 12.

Then it dawns on me. Madylin's letter's are still in D12, and they're my one shot to know what Mady planned for the rebellion.

I bolt off the deck and run to the head of the helicopter, where Plutarch flies it.

"Plutarch!" I say a little breathlessly. "We have to stop here!"

Digging in the rubble I may find a letter and I've become obsessed with Madylin's plans of late.

"Katniss, why?" asks Plutarch.

I think. I can't tell him it's so I can dig for a letter, which would make me look skeptical.

"I have to say goodbye," I invent wildly.

Plutarch looks pityingly at me. "There's nothing to say goodbye to.

"It's important!" I say. "We won't take long; there are no cameras around here, please?" I beg, which is something I almost never do. I have trouble asking for things.

Plutarch considers and sighs. "Fine, but we can't dawdle anymore after this. Go tell the others."

"Thanks!" I exclaim.

I head back to the observation deck.

"Change of plans, we're landing momentarily so we can say goodbye to District 12," I announce.

"Why?" chorus four voices.

"Because it's important," I say.

"I'll go tell Johanna," Finnick says. "It's not our District, we'll stay here," He exits.

The four of us that remain go inside so we'll be safe when Plutarch lowers the copter into a landing position. Ten minutes later the helicopter makes contact with one of the many soot piles that litter the landscape.

"I'll just, wait for you here then," Plutarch says to me.

"We're going too," Madge says, grabbing Gale and Peeta by their arms.

We exit the copter, with some difficulty, and then get a better look at the place we used to call home. The houses are smashed to smithereens but you can see the occasional bit of wood or foundation. District 12 was not a big place and its size hasn't changed. We landed on the outskirts of town, not too far from where my house was.

"The real reason I needed to come here is to get whatever is left of your Aunt Madylin's letters." I tell Madge. Peeta and Gale know about the whole Maysilee and Madylin thing now. Madge filled Gale in the other day.

"So we have to go where Madge's house used to be. Right now, I think we're near where my house was."

"This way," says Madge sadly and we all follow her.

Reaching the site that used to hold the Mayor's house is a sad thing. It was the largest, fanciest house in D12 so the foundation and even most of the back wall has survived. It's almost like looking into a life-sized dollhouse, except for the second and third stories toppling over lethally.

Madge is holding back tears; it must be terrible for her to see her house like this. I see Gale take her hand but don't let it get to me now. We'll have plenty of time to work out our dynamics later.

"Look for any letters and then see if they're from Madylin." I instruct.

We search the area, making quick work of it. I check under the debris left behind and the boys dangerously boost each other up to look on the higher levels, forgetting their differences just this once. Madge is silently crying and standing over her broken up grand piano. She hits the keys softly, but they are so out of tune it sounds nothing like the sweet melodies I've heard her play before.

"I don't think they're here," I say after a while.

The others nod.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"It's okay," says Peeta. "Do you still think we should say goodbye?"

"Yes," answers Madge.

"Yeah, I don't want my last memories of this place to be running away from firebombs," Gale adds. He and Madge smirk a little, like they have some strange inside joke involving firebombs.

Peeta, Gale, Madge, and I walk in silence to the square. It's the place I used to think was the nicest in the District, and it seems a good place to say goodbye forever. The others must think so too because we don't discuss where we're going, we just all hollow the same path.

When we reach the square we stop in the middle, a little clutter around a nonexistent something. We gaze around at the nothing that surrounds us. Just bits of sooty rubble, that's all. I find myself looking at the others and thinking maybe it's the people and not the place that make a home.

There's Madge, who's been a friend to me really all along. I then set my eyes on Gale, with his tan skin and dark hair and grey Seam eyes. Those eyes must sense me looking because they make contact with my own.

When we look at each other I feel something shift inside of me, and I'm sure he feels it too. Just like that, our relationship changes. Yes, we will always be Gale and Catnip, I will always love him and he will always love me. But he will not always be in love with me. He understands now. Going back to our roots in District 12 has reminded us of all those times back when we were just friends and nothing romantic crossed our brains, and how those times were better.

Finally, I look at Peeta, the boy whose loved me for much longer then I have known and the boy with the way with words. He can move a nation with what he says. I feel he should say something now.

"You should say something," I tell him.

"Like, what?" he asks quizzically.

"Something about our District,"

Madge nods and Gale is respectfully sullen.

Peeta takes a breath in. "It's strange for me, being here with everything gone. I don't know if it's like that for you,"

I nod. It is.

"It makes me think of all the power the Capitol must have to be able to do this to our home in just the blink of an eye. It makes me wonder if we have a chance of winning this thing with devastation pouring in from all sides. But really, it's the people that make the District, not the place,"

We're on the same page again, I think, tucked under Peeta's arm.

"And I know," Peeta continues. "That we, the people of District 12, will keep fighting. So many souls lost their lives here because of the Capitol, some even because they were fighting the Capitol."

I think of Darius and know he's right.

"But what the Capitol has got to realize is, District 12's not dead. District 12's still fighting!"

When Peeta finishes speaking, the wind picks up and swirls the soot around. My braid is picked up and unravels, so tendrils of my hair twirl around. Then, suddenly, the wind stops and the clouds part. I see the sun peaking out from under them and illuminate the scene.

The four of us, two girls and two boys, two merchant class and two from the Seam, look skywards. I see a single mockingjay fly across the blue, silhouetted against the sun for a minute as the symbol of rebellion and the symbol of hope.

When we get back on the helicopter today, we will know our dynamics. Now I am ready to fight this battle, because it's a battle that has to be won.

**I hope that wasn't too dramatic/unbelievable, but I needed to do it! Please, please review! I have a few faithful readers, but not as many reviewers! Reviews let me know what's good and what's bad, so let me know!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys, sorry about the long wait for this chappie! I hope you enjoy it though…  
Happy Easter, and if you don't celebrate that, Happy Spring! We have very nice weather here, I was writing outside :)**

Chapter 12

Nonsensical pictures chase each other around in my mind, each crazier than the next. Gale and Madge are having tea in the mayor's lopsided and destroyed house. A door still stands with no walls supporting it. Gale kisses Madge's pink cheek and then comes to the door.

He opens it and his face is inches from mine. I am at the door, I understand. All I get is a glimpse of the bright red strawberries sitting atop of the tray I hold in my hands before Gale knocks them to the ground.

"You failed, Katniss," he says sternly.

I blink and feel my eyelashes moisten. I look down at the mush of strawberries and broken glass that litters my leather hunting boots. When I look back up, Gale is gone but Haymitch fills his shoes.

Madge has floated over, actually floated with the tips of her slippered feet inches from the ground. Her once rosy complexion is gray in comparison, matching the color of her long dress.

"You failed," Haymitch repeats again. "It's your fault she's dead."

Haymitch's voice is detached. Only when Madge shushes him does he show some emotion, but it's not Madge at all, it's Maysilee. Or Madylin. Whichever, the concept is confusing to me, especially in this strange dream state.

Maysilee/Madylin tries to press her lips to Haymitch's but it doesn't work. It's like she's nothing, just dully colored air because she seeps through Haymitch. Then she disappears in wisps of smoke.

Haymitch lets out an anguished cry and throws an empty liquor bottle to the ground with such a force that when it shatters the pieces fly all over the place.

I want to comfort him but I also want to confront him. I didn't kill Maysilee, of that I'm sure. She died before my time. But all I can do now is stand there as the scene ripples around me.

"You killed them; it's your fault they all died!" I hear Haymitch's voice echo distantly.

I am in a dark hallway, walking with heavy footfalls instead of my usual light tread.

I pass the muttation version of Glimmer, who licks a bloody gash down her side and glares reproachfully at me, like I'm to blame. Then the old man from District 11 goes down over and over again as Peacekeeper Romulus Thread shoots at him with a noisy gun. Finnick spears a netted Rue with his golden trident.

"I'm sorry, but it's your fault," he states simply as Rue and I scream.

I run to Rue and try to untangle her from the net, as soon as I've got a handle on it, she morphs into Prim.

"He's right," she says sweetly. "It's your fault. But don't worry, no one expected you to defeat the Capitol anyway. We all knew you would fail."

Prim smiles sincerely until mutt Glimmer comes back and drags her away screaming.

I wake up sweating and shaking and pressed in between a thin mattress and a heavy, warm and scratchy quilt. The rock walls and ceiling of the cave surrounds me.

We arrived in D13 a few days ago and are just getting adjusted to the society. Just as I suspected, my first visit didn't cover half of what there is to learn about this place. It's really quite amazing, the sheer number of people here. The survivors, the small amount from District 12, us victors, a few from the Capitol who are in Plutarch's undercover group, and even some stragglers who escaped from various districts, like Bonnie and Twill. In addition to that, we're in contact with rebels in every district, even 1 and 2, which no one was anticipating. Granted, the uprisings in 1 and 2 are miniscule compared to the rest of Panem, because many of their citizens don't even want to rebel.

Haymitch had a fit when we arrived, but that was to be expected. I didn't let him get to me, I could tell he was secretly happy I got back safe and rescued Peeta. He was less secretly happy that Peeta was alright. I always knew Haymitch likes Peeta more than me, but now they are acting like the best of friends. They even made up a fun new game: pick on Katniss. Peeta is good natured and always stops before I'm actually mad, but Haymitch doesn't. Oh well, Haymitch is family now.

I may be getting the hang of things in the Underground, but I still don't know what to make of that dream. The rebellion is my fault; it eats away at me everyday. Any deaths because of the uprisings are at my expense, no matter what anyone else says. I have nightmares like the one tonight whenever I don't have my security blanket, Peeta. Which begs the question, where is he?

I slip out of my bed, pull on some clothes and glance at the digital clock. It reads 5:30 AM. Early, even for District 13. Everyone rises early here to help out with chores, the rebellion, and even just to stay in the loop.

I decide to plod down to the dining hall and grab a drink from the spring despite the hour, maybe I'll find Peeta along the way. I try to remember, was he with me last night/ It's hard to say, sometimes he is up late talking to people from other districts, he's very interested in the other districts, and then just crawls into bed when I'm sleeping and I wake up with him there.

Our relationship is more complicated than ever now that I'm discovering I have real feelings for him. Peeta's never doubted the degree of his love for me, I've always been the problem. I don't want to be leading him on, even though he assures me that he doesn't care and that any time with me is worth any pain he will have to endure later. I cringe when he says things like that. Still, I don't think I'm faking what I feel anymore, and I have no reason to. Every time I look into Peeta's blue eyes or hear him whisper something in my ear, I feel my heart twinge in the nicest possible way and it's easy to forget about the biggest complication.

The biggest complication has a name, and that name is Gale Hawthorne. It doesn't help that Gale and I had the talk, the one where we try to decide what we are to each other. I thought we were square on that when we shared that moment in District 12, I thought that we were going back to just being friends. But Gale, it seems, was just caught up in everything. He still claims to be in love with me. I don't know what Madge is to him, whenever I ask he either doesn't answer or says that she is his Peeta. The person he turned to when the Games took me away. Also, Madge and Gale survived the bombing of District 12 together, and I for one know you can't survive a life or death situation without forming some kind of bond afterward.

Either way, it's Peeta I let share my room at night and everyone can make what they want out of that. Not that Peeta and I are doing anything we haven't done before, I wouldn't do that. But we're still talked about in the Underground just like things were on the victory tour and in the Capitol before the rebellion. Some things never change.

I make the trip to the dining hall silently as possible; I don't want to wake anyone. The only signs of movement come from the room Johanna shares with Jameson, a big, burly, dark-skinned man in his mid twenties from District 11.

Apparently he had lost all hope and was running away from his district (this was before they had their security system up and running, before my mother and Prim arrived, even before the Quarter Quell). I was told he was shocked and almost electrocuted to death when he frantically tried to climb the live fence. The Peacekeepers, being their sadistic selves, through him out past the fence, thinking he would suffer a painful death shortly afterwards. That was their mistake.

Jameson gritted his teeth through the pain and started his journey to District 13, the only place he though could be safe. No matter what courage he possessed, he probably wouldn't have made it here alive if he hadn't run into Sisi and Ave, healers running away from District 3. All three of them arrived in the Underground at the tail end of the Quell, when the rebellion was in full scale.

There are lots of stories like Jameson's, like Laur from 4, Elysin from 10 and even Megg, who somehow escaped from1.

Ever since Johanna met Jameson they've never left each other's sides. I don't know what it is because Johanna is almost never friendly and when she is she goes through almost as many partners as Finnick .I think Jameson is good for her, though. I remember when Johanna told me she'd never be in danger from the jabberjays because there was no one left she loved. I'm not so sure of her feelings now, all I know is I've finally seen her smile when it's not spiteful. She seems to hate me and life in general less now, she still hates both, but less.

By now I've made it to the dining hall, have my water glass in hand and am heading back to my room, Peeta is bound to turn up soon. It turns out, sooner than I think.

As I pass a cave that is mainly used for meetings I spot him. He sits at a small table accompanied by Haymitch, Gale, Plutarch, and Cinna. The candlelight hits his face perfectly to highlight his jaw line and also show me the intense look in his eyes that he gets whenever he's working on something. The paper in front of him and pencil in his hand proves that to be true.

"-a bit more discreet with the coloring on the wings, we don't want it to be too noticeable in case we have to hide at some point," I hear Cinna saying, Peeta makes a change in the drawing and Cinna nods.

"Hiding? We haven't even chosen the game plan yet, we could be sneaky about it, we could go district by district, or just bomb them upfront!" Haymitch says.

"We mustn't get ahead of ourselves, Haymitch, the helicopter parts could take months to obtain," Plutarch muses.

"Not to mention the uniforms," Cinna adds.

"Why do we need all this fancy stuff? If there's going to be an army, I'm enlisting right away!" Gale says defiantly.

Just then, they all must notice I'm at the door.

"Hi…" I say.

"Katniss," says Cinna warmly. "I guess this is as good a time as any to tell her about the Mockingjay Forces," he adds to Plutarch, who nods.

Then, they all go on to tell me about the plans for an army. With the majority of the country in full sale rebellion, it seems about time. The Mockingjay Forces aims to get as many people from multiple Districts to fight together for a common goal: Capitol destruction. All the kinks aren't worked out of the plan yet, but they have the general idea.

Haymitch doesn't say, but I think the name of the forces derives from his mysterious Mockingjay Society.

"You knew about this?" I ask Peeta and Gale, silently adding a "and you didn't tell me?"

"Actually, I just learned today. They needed me to draw this," Peeta brandishes the drawing. His eloquent pencil strokes depict a beautiful helicopter with mockingjay like detailing on the wings and the letters MF for Mockingjay Forces.

"I just want to fight," Gale retorts.

_No, _I think, _Gale can't fight! _He can't be put in danger because of me; I still think the rebellion's my fault.

"Why are you talking about this so early in the morning?" I ask suspiciously.

"We can't have the whole Underground knowing!" Haymitch states exasperatedly. "Some people would worry, others would want to fight right away, like this one," he gestures to Gale. "The one thing we can't have is disagreements in the Underground."

I bite my lip but don't say anything. I don't think the survivors should be left in the dark, but I also see Haymitch's point about having to keep unity in the caves.

"Don't worry, Katniss," Cinna assures me. "Everyone will be told as soon as firmer plans are laid down."

I nod, still a little rattled but join their small meeting anyway. It doesn't last long, they tell me all the information about the Mockingjay Forces that I don't know and I watch Peeta as he sketches more diagrams.

By the time we decide we've talked enough about this for one day, I know there's no way I could get back to sleep. Plutarch and Cinna walk away, still in deep discussion about uniform designs and helicopter parts. Gale then manages to sulk away to who knows where and Haymitch is gone too. Now it's just Peeta and me. My stomach rumbles loudly.

"Breakfast?" Peeta asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Breakfast." I confirm. An hour passed with the meeting so the cooking crew will probably have the food out by now. Cooking, like everything else in District 13, is a chore people take in shifts. Everyone is rotated from job to job each week, but if someone particularly likes a certain job and another person hates it, it's safe to say they'll help each other out. Also, some people who have a background in some fields are novelties with the corresponding jobs. An example of this is Greasy Sae, who, I was thrilled to find out, made her own way out of D12 and now is always in the kitchens.

Peeta and I join hands and saunter off to the dining hall, earning a few looks and murmured hellos from our fellow early risers. We receive mainly positive feedback in the Underground, where everyone believes we're the cause of the rebellion, but a few people look at us reproachfully. I doubt it has anything to do with the hand holding. After having my romance live broadcasted across the nation, PDA doesn't faze me anymore. What I think the people are mad about is our rebellion putting their children's lives at risk. And in my case, not so much Peeta's, that is absolutely true.

Months pass, and each day brings a new discovery in the Underground district. More causalities arrive, but not my mother and Prim. District 11 is still okay, in their safe house, but the Capitol's caught on about the sanctuary and has guards all around it, though not inside it.

Prim and I have been in touch by letter until recently when we agreed the mockingjays streaming in and out of the safe houses would be too big of a tip off.

The rebels are still causing uprisings against the Peacekeepers and paying dearly for it. Whippings are common everywhere now, and fire squads make house calls. Districts 1 and 2, the Capitol's pets, are more willing to fight now because none of them remember being treated horribly by their master, not even the very old who were around in the Dark Days. This is worse.

Our little society keeps working on the Mockingjay Forces, but, as Plutarch says, it does take a while to get the helicopters up and running. So far we have five, but that's no match for the Capitol. Our first mission was to get bullet proof plates from a factory in District 3. I wasn't allowed go, of course. They like to keep me cooped up in here, claiming I'm too valuable to lose. Instead Sisi and Ave went, accompanied by Mikus, a strong young man with blonde roots growing into his pink hair, from Plutarch's undercover group, and from the Capitol.

Their mission was a success. The plates were added on to the copters and Cinna even found a way to extract a bullet proof thread from them which he's now sewing into his soldier uniforms.

The citizens were told about the army, and many men and women alike enlisted. Gale, of course, even after I said I was worried about him, Johanna and Jameson, who will do anything together, Finnick, I'm worried about him but I know he can handle himself, and another person I wasn't expecting. Bonnie.

You have to be eighteen years old to enlist in the army. Bonnie's birthday was just last week. I worry about her everyday, along with countless nameless faceless others planning to fight when the battles begin.

I do admit, if there's an upside to Gale enlisting, it was getting to watch his fitting. If I thought I was a bad model, it's nothing compared to Gale. Cinna and I had a few laughs about that.

Peeta and I were forbidden to enlist in the army. At first, I was just mad, but now I see it as a way to further protect Peeta.

Everyday I've been wheedling more information about the Donner twins and the Mockingjay Society out of Haymitch. I've learned that my mother and father, Haymitch, and Maysilee started it when they met, grieving at Madylin's funeral about her untimely death. They recruited fighters secretly, just as we are doing now, but there were just as frequent whippings. Everything was going well, I was right about Haymitch loving Maysilee. But he won't talk about that, she married the mayor in the end, after all.

The group slowly made contacts in other districts and rebelled until something went horribly wrong and they grew apart, giving up. I still haven't found out what that was.

May comes and goes, along with my birthday. In District 12 we had no reason to celebrate this, except for saying "Congratulations, you stayed alive another year!". Here, however, they sing you a song and give you nice food. Peeta even baked me a cake for the occasion. It's weird, not signing up for any tesserae, but I realize none of the kids here have to. The Hunger Games never torment their dreams. I find this amazing.

That's why the public broadcast on Reaping Day doesn't faze me at all.

"Katniss! Peeta! Come quick!" says Greasy Sae urgently on the June morning. "Required broadcast is on, we think it's 'bout the Reaping, but that's not scheduled until next month,"

My stomach twinges. Prim is okay, right? But I just say casually, "Don't worry, we're coming,"

The dining hall, which also serves as a full district meeting place, is full to the brim with people. Muttering people.

"Why is it so early this year?"

"Is it even the Reaping?"

"What else could it be?"

"But that's not until next month,"

"It can't be another Quell…"

Peeta and I walk in and a hush follows. Everyone stares at us, like we're the fault of whatever's coming. _But nothing's coming, _I think, _nothing big anyway. _If Prim is taken, we have an army now and we'll bust her out. She won't be taken anyway, I would've heard more about it.

Peeta and I sit down at one of the tables, next to Gale and Madge. Someone has opened the TV cupboard so the 52' the survivors smuggled in is visible for everyone to see.

The Hunger Games anthem blares and the seal flashes, and then it shows President Snow sitting behind a desk.

"Good morning, citizens of Panem," he says. "The 76th Hunger Games are fast approaching and with them another twist. Last year, some of our victors thought it would be humorous to pull a prank on us and destroy our beautiful arena," his voice takes on an angry edge for a moment but then he manages to go back to light heartedness for the Capitol audiences. "Really, they were defying us, and everyone knows what happens to those who defy the Capitol," he smiles.

The President then goes on explaining the Dark Days and the Treaty of Treason, just like always, but one line stands out in my mind.

"We all know the Dark Days were terrible, terrible times for everyone, so I suggest no one tries anything like them again, unless they want to be brutally executed."

But we already are trying, what does that mean? Empty threat or a bigger meaning? I'm guessing the latter.

"With that, I leave you to the Reapings today, a month early. Stay tuned for the special surprise!" he says cheerfully. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The screen flips immediately to District 1 and I watch the Reaping. 1 and 2 are pretty normal, two tributes are chosen for each. It's just like the Capitol to go on with the Games amidst a rebellion.

After the boy from 2 (Thomas, age fifteen) is chosen, the screen flashes back to President Snow.

"The twist you've all been waiting for," he says menacingly. "Is that, for each escaped victor a loved one will be taken to the arena."

I gasp and grip Peeta tightly so I don't fall over.

"Enobaria Mort, from District 2, escaped. For her troubles, we're taking her husband, Lincoln."

The screen flashes back to District 2 and shows a man in his forties being escorted out by the Peacekeepers, screaming. I know that Enobaria has been killed. When the Capitol figured out she couldn't be used to bait anyone, they tossed her aside like last month's skin color.

A similar situation happens in District 3. They take Myra, Beetee's niece, for Beetee. Through everything I'm wondering who they'll take for me. I just hope I'm wrong.

District 4 is the most painful by far. Along with the two tributes they take Annie Cresta, the mad girl Finnick loves.

Finnick is beside himself, throwing things and shouting and saying he wants to kill himself.

"No, Finnick! That can't help her now!" says Haymitch, restraining him.

Finnick just runs off crying, I am too stunned to comfort him.

The kerfuffle lasts for the whole Reaping of District 6. Nothing out of the ordinary happens there. Both tributes didn't escape from that district.

It's 7 I'm dreading. Johanna. "There's no one left I love," her words echo around in my brain. I glance at Jameson. _Yes there is, _I think.

"For Johanna Masen, of District 7," says President Snow. "We take Jameson Red. Yes, we know where you are. Jameson, you have a month to show yourself or we kill your family.

The camera pans to an older man and woman who must be Jameson's parents.

"No!" I hear Johanna shrieking. "No, no, no!"

Tear tracks snake there way down Jameson's dark, high cheekbones. He's already made his decision. He will show himself.

Those two exit, holding each other and crying.

The rest of the Reapings are normal until they reach 11. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and feel like I have to throw up at the same time.

I scan the crowd of kids in 11 and don't see Prim, a good sign. The boy and girl tributes are chosen, still no sign of her.

The TV flashes back to President Snow.

"From District 12, more than one person has wronged the Capitol, but, as we always say on Reaping Day, ladies first."

I gulp and feel all of the eyes in the room are turned on me.

"Katniss Everdeen is a liar and a phony!" the President's voice rings out. "She never loved Peeta Mellark as much as she claimed, it's always been Gale Hawthorne, and he's not even her cousin!"

They show the smiling picture of Gale that I have in the locket Peeta gave me and many people gasp around the room. Some of them don't even know I was faking and believed the cousin lie.

"No," I say quickly and quietly. "No, that's not true, I –I am in love with you!" I say to Peeta, just realizing it myself at the worst possible time.

His eyes are incredulous and he somehow manages a smile. It seems like he's about to say something, but the President continues on. Of course, he hasn't heard our exchange.

"Katniss Everdeen was never even pregnant, either, but that is the least of her deceptions. She is working with District 13! I regret to inform you that District 12 is no more. District 13 is still alive and plans a conspiracy against the nation. It was them, lead by Katniss Everdeen, who blew up District 12!" President Snow smiles manically, red-faced and crazed.

Cries of outrage pierce the hall. He is blaming us for what they have done.

"For Katniss Everdeen, of District 12, we take her sister, Primrose Everdeen."

"No!" I scream as the TV switches back to District 11. Squads of Peacekeepers march up to a safe-looking building and they smash through its bullet-proof walls with chainsaws and hand grenades. They walk to a room where the refugees watch the live Reapings, too. They literally saw this coming because Prim is hidden in a corner behind many others. Her telltale blonde hair is the only thing that distinguishes her.

A mean looking female Peacekeeper leers over and grabs her by the arm. I see my mother try to snatch her back.

"No! No!" she cries.

Prim screams when the female Peacekeeper hits my mother with the butt of her gun. My mother falls to the ground and I see Thresh's grandmother bend down to help her. One of Rue's sisters who must be only twelve is shouting wildly.

"Don't take her! Take me! I volunteer as tribute!"

The female Peacekeeper just laughs, "No volunteers can save you this time, girl!"

The last shot is Prim crying and being carried out by the Peacekeepers.

Through the whole ordeal I've been kicking and screaming out, trying to run up to the TV and somehow save Prim. The only thing restraining me, I now realize, is Gale. He has me in some kind of hold as I scratch at his arms for release. My mouth is covered, too. He must think I need to hear what's coming next.

President Snow glares at me through the TV. "A male tribute from District 12 has also wronged us," he continues. _Oh no, Peeta, _is all I can think. "Although, he wasn't a tribute in the Quarter Quell, he still needs to be punished."

_Wait, what?_

"Haymitch Abernathy has been sided with the rebels from the beginning, and for him we take Madylin Donner-Undersee!"

They mean Maysilee, but under her fake name. But, no, she's dead! But she's not.

The camera shows her in the flesh, locked away in a cell in some Capitol prison.

"Oh my god," I hear Madge choke out, smiling. She thought her mother was dead until now, like the rest of us. The Capitol must've kidnapped her. But the smile slips off Madge's face as she realizes that even though her mother's alive now, she won't be for long.

Haymitch just looks blankly at the screen, in shock.

President Snow is back on. "The last person who defied us is Peeta Mellark. No matter her obliviousness, he never stopped loving Katniss Everdeen. And that is why, for Peeta Mellark of District 12, we take Katniss Everdeen as tribute."

_What the hell? _I think. _This is all a dream; this has to be a dream! _But it's not a dream.

Peeta is enraged, punching the table repeatedly, leaving it in splinters and his knuckles bloody.

I feel Gale's arms go limp around me and think it's possible he might've just passed out. Peeta stops destroying the furniture to catch me just before I hit the ground. Now he just holds me and everyone watches as we both cry.

**OMG THAT WAS SO INTENSE! I hope you thought so. If you saw it coming, tell me in a review, but also tell me how you saw it coming, I thought it was pretty shocking. Tell me your predictions too, I love to hear what you guys think is going on.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The hall eventually clears out, it's like people think we're going to star t lashing out or become violent. We don't.

I distantly hear President Snow's voice telling me I have one month. One month to show myself before they kill my family and one month to say my goodbyes. Generous.

I hear and think all this but all I see is the fabric of Peeta's shirt. I'm ruining it with my salty tears, my face pressed against his chest, but he doesn't care. I don't think he's functioning properly yet either.

When I'm all cried out, which takes a considerably long time, I tilt my chin up to look at Peeta. His face is set and hard as stone, his blue teary eyes are intense, sad, and icy. When I look into those eyes they somehow show love within all the sadness and hatred for the Capitol. Peeta cups my face in his hands and exhales, closing his eyes tightly as a few more tears try to escape.

"Peeta," I say in a small voice, testing my ability to make words again. "I don't want to go."

Peeta crushes me into him so tightly that it's almost suffocating, but I clutch back.

"I will never want you to go," he says back. "But I know you will go. You'll go to save your family because that's what you do. And now matter how much it saddens me, that's one of the reasons I love you. Even though I wish you would sometimes, you never put yourself first. You're too kind and strong and gentle to ever let anyone suffer, even if the price is your happiness."

Of course, Peeta is right. Not about all the nice things he said about me, he always makes me out to be a much better person than I am. But he's right about the other things. I will go to save my family at my own expense.

I used to think that Gale is the only one who knows how my brain works, but Peeta's learned over time. Now he knows me just as well. He knows I will always be the martyr, the flame, the spark, the mockingjay.

"I'm really sorry for you kids," I hear a voice say. It's Haymitch; I thought he had left with the rest.

"Thank you, Haymitch," says Peeta sorrowfully, but all I can do is stare at him, the worried crease between my eyebrows feeling permanent and everlasting.

"How about a drink?" Haymitch asks kindly.

This is the last thing I was expecting. I was expecting a plan, or more training, or a strategy. It seems they were just as caught off guard as I was.

"Come on, you don't have to," Haymitch's voice cracks, "Go, straight away. You'll have plenty of time to see each other sober. Katniss, what you need is one night with no cares in the world."

Haymitch seems to be speaking from experience.

In the background noise, I hear and see the TV, which is still on. Playing is a reality program with a pink skinned Capitol girl pondering what dress to wear to some gala. She is crying about how hard her life is. Yeah, her life is hard.

I look up at Peeta to see what he thinks about Haymitch's proposal.

"I think, Haymitch," he says. "That is exactly what we need."

Haymitch's quarters in the Underground are a lot like his house was in District 12, messy disarray. Thankfully, because of the newness of the place, odors haven't had time to accumulate.

As soon as we enter, Haymitch crosses over to a nook in the wall of the cave and returns with his arms laden with alcohol. I don't know where he got it or how he stayed in stock. I don't care.

I remember the old Katniss, who never gave up and always had a plan. Who smiled and waved at crowds, even when they cheer for her death. She is gone, and all that fills her shoes is the empty shell, framing the new Katniss, who has to struggle to have the will to even try and save her sister from whatever terrible fate the Capitol has planned. No one will want to sponsor her. I have no chance.

Peeta and I are seated at a sort of counter formed of rock that protrudes from the cavern's walls. Someone has fashioned wooden stools that sit around along the counter. I admire the artistry.

When Haymitch slams a bottle down in front of me, I don't hesitate to wrap one hand around it and twist the cap off with the other. I don't take a sip right away; I've only ever been drunk once, and that time I wasn't even as depressed as I am now. I remember the side effects from the following morning of that time and shudder.

Haymitch has sat down and is, of course, the first to drink. He takes a long swig of his liquor, almost draining it in one.

"I never knew she was still alive," Haymitch trembles. "Doesn't matter I guess, we haven't spoken in ages. Had a falling out, you see, ages ago…" he laughs grimly, "When it came down to our plan or what your mother wanted," he points at me, "You're mother…she never wanted…I suppose I regret it, too, now…"

Haymitch isn't making any sense. What did my mother have to do with his and Maysilee's love story? They were definitely not involved, I know that for positive. What Haymitch is talking about is on a much more grandeur scale, its rebellion related. I can feel it.

"I was just doing what Mady wanted," Haymitch continues, "Just following her plan…its working, her plan is. She was a smart one, Mady, too smart, maybe. She over compensated things, like how many would have to die for it to work out in the end,"

He stares at me with piercing sadness. There's a short pause.

"What Mays and I had was love, but we lost it. Don't let that happen to you kids. Here's to love!"

Haymitch chinks his bottle to Peeta's. Peeta drinks all of his, after a little choking at the beginning, but I'm still as a stone, still processing. This time yesterday I would've given a lot to know more about the Mockingjay Society and Madylin's letters, but today I feel I'd rather die in peaceful oblivion. Which can be arranged. The oblivion, not the peaceful. I've lived enough of my life asking questions and getting dissatisfactory answers, so for my last days I'm not going to bother.

"Never let that happen to you," Haymitch repeats.

I'm about to tell him that we essentially will lose our love because I'm not going to make it through this summer, but instead I just guzzle down my white liquor. It burns my throat on the way down, but I like the burn. I'm fire girl, after all.

We toast too many things. We toast to love, to victories, to power, to the dead, to the living, to loss. I notice a pattern: the more alcohol consumption, the sillier the toasts. By the time empty bottles litter the ground, some shattered after being dropped by slack hands, we're drinking to even crazier things.

"To the Capitol's food!" Haymitch shouts.

"Yes! To lamb stew!" I shout and we chink glasses again.

"To those apples that ate the cheese!" says Peeta, bringing back an old memory.

"Yes! To them!" I shout outrageously.

"To the bloody Hunger Games!" Haymitch yells blatantly searching for another reason to drink.

"To the Hunger Games bringing us together," Peeta says, tracing a finger down my cheek as I sit on his lap. I catch his hand and hold it to my cheek, pleased by the warmth.

Our eyes connect but I ruin the moment by being unable to contain myself and shouting, "To everyone knowing our names!"

"To fame!" shouts Haymitch.

"To fortune!" Peeta waggles his blonde brows.

I take another sloppy sip of my drink, accidentally spilling half down my shirt and think that my feelings earlier were pure over reaction. Sure the Capitol can put me in their Games, but they can't kill me. I'll find a way out of this, I'm sure of it. And nothing can crash my mood.

"To living life!" shouts Haymitch, "To never dying!"

I burst into tears. Emotions are running high. How could I ever think there was a chance of surviving? I was stupid to even hope.

"I'm going to die," I sniffle, realizing it at once. The last two times I was thrown into the arena I had a little notice beforehand. Volunteering for Prim was my choice and I had time to build myself up before the Quell. This time, the unexpectedness is overwhelming. I never dreamed of this.

Thinking about it now, I really should have seen it coming. Third time's the charm, right?

"Don't cry, now," says Haymitch. "You've got spunk, I knew it the first day I saw you. Don't lost it now,"

"I'm too young to die!" I wail.

"And too pretty!" Peeta adds dramatically. "I'm never going to let anyone hurt you,"

"Too late for that, bud," Haymitch says tactlessly.

Peeta and I stare at him. I get to my feet, very wobbly, and put my hands on my hips.

"I've had enough! If this is what rebellion is, I don't want it! People are dying and they're blaming me! Now I'm dying. I want out."

Haymitch chuckles, "You can't get out, sweetheart. Not when you're already in,"

On a sober day, I would try to remember or discover who I am and what I stand for, grit my teeth and bear it. I would try to just take it all and be the hero and the symbol of the rebels. Today, I am drunk, so today; I don't want to be the savoir.

"I don't want to be in," I say quietly.

Haymitch looks at me sadly, "I know, I shouldn't have said that," he says, "I shouldn't have said that," his voice trails off and is replaced by a nasty thud. Overtime, he's slipped of his stool and is now propped up against the rock wall. Passed out, dead drunk. Peeta and I look at each other. Peeta smiles.

"What?" I ask suspiciously.

"This is like that time on the train, the first time, when Haymitch passed out on us."

I giggle, "He always passes out,"

"Let's get him to bed," Peeta says. He grabs and arm and I take the other. Together we haul Haymitch through the front room and to his bedroom, which is secluded in the back. This takes much longer than it usually would because we are impaired and seeing double. We roll Haymitch onto his front and leave him there, oblivious to the world.

"There, that's good," says Peeta, his words slurring a bit.

"Now I see why Haymitch is always drunk," I say, letting Peeta take my hand and lead me back to the front room. "You forget things, like…oh, now I remembered again,"

I reach for a stray white liquor bottle and take a long drag. Peeta pulls us onto Haymitch's couch so the drink spills over both of us. I sit on his lap, one leg slung over his prosthetic. His arms wrap around me and my tears, suppressed for a short time, begin to flow again. I look down and notice the muscles in his arms, perfectly sculpted. The skin that clings to them still worries me. Since we rescued them, Peeta and the others have been very skinny. I never did ask what exactly they did to him in the Capitol, maybe I was too scared to know. But I do know they weren't feeding him. I trace his muscles absentmindedly and Peeta looks thoughtfully down at me.

"What did they do to you in the Capitol?" I ask, suddenly curious.

Peeta's eyes glaze over like he's trying not to remember a bad dream. I bite my lip, preparing for the worst possible answer.

"Well," Peeta begins. "You know they tortured us. At first they decided who needed to live, so they could be used as bait. That Enobaria woman, they killed her right off the bat, said she was useless,"

I gulp. That must've been horrible for Peeta, to see that. I know he's been through a lot worse, but the thing is, Peeta doesn't kill. Peeta doesn't hurt people, when he does it's only to protect others. He's the only decent person who's ever won the Games, and he only won because of me. I can admit that know. I've horribly brought him along for this messed up adventure.

"Anyways," Peeta continues, sensing my distress. "They locked us up after that. Johanna and I met up with Madge; she was in the cell with us. Then they tortured us. I don't want to tell you what they did Katniss; I don't want you to be scared or think this is your fault."

I'm about to protest, but Peeta stops me by putting a finger to my lips, "No," he says, "It's not your fault. When they tortured us, they questioned us. Asked us for any information on where you were or what you were doing. No one told, not even Johanna. Madge and I didn't even know D13 existed, but I think Johanna did. I'll never forget what they did to us, but if it helped save you it was worth it."

_No, it wasn't, _I think.

"Thank you," I place a kiss on his cheek. "For saving me, I mean. But it doesn't change anything; I'm still going to die."

"No you're not!" Peeta shouts angrily. "I told you, we're going to find a way to get you out of this or we're all going to die trying! I'm not going to be able to go on without you! My family, mom and dad, and my brothers Mazza and Packer! I don't know what happened to them, they could be dead like the rest of District 12! We were never a family anyway, not like yours. You have a family who loves you, and so many other people love you. There's so much love in your life and I'm just scared that you won't need me in the long run!"

I'm stunned, how could he think that?

"Of course I need you, Peeta! How could you even say that? It was you who stayed with me in the arena, not my mother, or Prim. And now I have to go back in there, without you, and with Prim. Don't you see? That's the reason I have to die,"

"No!" shouts Peeta. He lifts me off his lap and sits me down on the couch. Now he stands, towering over me. I feel small. "We're going to find a way to save you and Prim and all those other tributes. This has gone on for long enough; they've put you through enough. I'm not going to let them hurt you!"

Peeta throws an empty liquor bottle across the room. It shatters, leaving shards all across the floor. Peeta's shaking, he looks like he's about to break down.

"I can't let them hurt you anymore," he whispers.

I stand up slowly. There are a couple feet between Peeta and I.

"You have to."

Peeta covers the distance between us in a second and then his mouth is on mine. His hands grip the back of the couch, with one arm on either side of me, so I hold his shirt as an anchor. I'm startled by the intensity; it's never been like this with us before, not even in the cave or on the beach when he gave me the locket. It's our first kiss since I said I found out I am in love with him, a revelation I'm still shocked of. It's true, though.

Everything is always so complicated. I thought we were faking, he thought it was real. I never could make a real choice because the Capitol mucked things up. Peeta was captured because of me. There was Gale to think about, still is really. Haymitch was pressuring us to keep it up. Children would become tributes. There's a rebellion to worry about. I'm going in the Games again.

But at this exact moment, with Peeta kissing me with fiery passion and me, knowing that I truly do love this boy, things make sense. Maybe my brain is still fuzzy from the drink, but sometimes you need to eliminate all the extra things and have a simple moment.

I have the hunger again, the one that's not associated with food, but with this kiss, the best kiss of my life, and I'm certain it counts now. Because we're not pretending with me leaning back against the couch and Peeta holding me close to him. I never want to be without him again.

That's about when Haymitch stumbles back into the room. I see him in the corner of my eye, laden with more liquor. I reluctantly pry myself off of Peeta.

"Who's up for round two?" Haymitch asks, brandishing to the bottles.

Peeta and I cheer.

The next morning I wake with a pounding headache. My back is all cramped up, I think I slept funny. I don't know if I even slept at all. My head is lying on Peeta's chest and Haymitch is no where in sight.

I have to run to the washroom so I don't up check all over the floor. I remember these symptoms from last time but today it's much worse. Probably because it feels like I consumed over twenty bottles last night. Peeta is quick to follow so we try our best to console each other as we puke our guts out. He holds back my hair, which has wildly escaped from its braid again and all I can do for him is rub his back.

"Promise me we never do this again?" Peeta asks slowly in one of the calm moments, holding his aching head.

"I promise," I say all too readily.

Coming down from our high, the Games feel much more real. I thought I could force the thought away, but what goes up must come down.

Madge brings us breakfast. Thoughtful of her, I don't want to see people yet. The rims of her blue eyes are red and puffy. She's been crying. For her mother. For me. Maybe something else but I don't ask. Just thank her and squeeze her hand. We'll have time to talk later.

With the food, she brings a piece of news. Finnick is gone. I don't think anyone expected him to stick around any longer. He's off somewhere trying to save his Annie and all I can do is hope he's okay. But really, I got the worse end of the deal.

Peeta and I sit together, trying to wait out the hangover. He runs his fingers through my hair and places a kiss on my temple every now and then. We don't talk, just wait. We wait to wake up from this horrible nightmare that's been going on too long.

But we won't wake up. And this is real. You'd think we'd get used to it, but we don't. This is reality for the star-crossed lovers of District 12.

**Alright, there it is. I hope you like it. Sorry for the long wait! I'm so busy right now! And it's not smart to watch the whole first season of Glee on DVD the weekend that you have 3 projects to do.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The cornflakes swirl around in their bowl of two-part water one-part milk. Cornflakes are not a delicacy in District 13; they keep well if you don't mind them stale. And we're in no position to mind. Milk, on the other hand, is rare in the Underground so they water it down quite a lot. I expect they're only letting me have it with my cereal this morning to cushion the blow of my death sentence. If that's the case, it's not working.

After our drunken night with Haymitch, Peeta and I hid out in our room for a little while. Though I'm grateful my hangover is gone, I still don't like the impending doom feeling that replaces it. I was really starting to like our little life here. Chatting with Cinna, letter's from Prim, and especially getting the chance to talk to people from other districts are great assets. I was even starting to get over the whole Gale and Madge thing, or at least I tell myself that I was. The best thing about this society is I feel like I am a part of the rebellion, not just some face tacked on as a mascot.

Peeta still clings to the idea that I can be rescued, along with Prim, Jameson and all the other tributes. I let him cling because, if our situations were reversed, I'd probably be doing the same thing, but only after someone stopped me from committing suicide first. Most of the Underground agrees with Peeta and thinks that rescue is possible. That fact brings me back to what is being discussed as I munch on my cornflakes.

"Your trackers can't be removed after I insert them, understand?" asks Plutarch for the five hundredth time. The plan was only formulated this morning and they're already quizzing me on all its elements.

Jameson and I nod.

"We're assuming that the President knows we're in District 13. How else would he know you," he points to Jameson, "are here? There may even be cameras and a spy is a definite possibility,"

My stomach flip-flops uneasily; I don't like to believe that anyone can be betraying us.

"But you don't have to worry about that," Plutarch continues hastily, "Your only concern is getting safely to the arena, with trackers in."

I hold back a laugh. The root word "safe" and the word "arena" don't belong in the same sentence.

"Though they know we're in 13," Plutarch ploughs on, "we still want you a good hundred feet away from the entrance to the Underground. Actually, we arranged a meeting place. I still have contacts in the Capitol; they don't know where we are. You two will travel to the meeting place with me, in the invisi-suits. This will all take place in twenty days, that's what we agreed on."

We nod dumbly.

"This is thinking that you two are going to go," he says touchily.

"Yes," says Jameson. "I can't put my family in jeopardy.

I must have not answered for a long time, because Plutarch asks "Katniss?"

"What? Oh yes, of course I'm going."

I was just thinking about my family and who all I consider are in it. I could never put any of them in jeopardy, as Jameson said. I have no choice but to walk to my death, just as the Capitol planned. I may be too predictable because they know exactly how to get me to do what they want.

"Well," says Plutarch, rubbing his eyes a little, "that's that."

As it turns out, everything isn't said and done. I don't train for the Games, it makes them too real and frankly I don't need to. I worry about Prim's fresh rain drop face thrown into the bloody arena. I worry about having to kill Maysilee, and having to hurt Madge and Haymitch if I want my sister to stand a chance. I'm beginning to wonder if what I'm going to do, and what I have done, is right. Is it ever right to kill anyone? Why should I take anyone's life to preserve someone else's? Then I remember Prim and go back to my senses.

Also, I worry about Gale. Things are, or were, good between us. We know what we are to each other. We love each other as friends, but more than that. As family. That doesn't change how he'll be fighting with the Mockingjay Forces when I'm in the arena and they'll be targeting him personally now. I bring up this as we talk in the dining hall one afternoon.

"You have to stay safe, Gale."

He just stares at me.

"You have to stay alive and take care of Prim when I- when it's over,"

He keeps staring, but in a maddening pitying way.

"You have to take care of her Gale!" I say in a raised voice.

Gale sighs, "Don't worry about her, now. If all goes as planned you will be able to take care of her yourself,"

Something is off about how he says this. Like he doesn't buy what he's saying, but he's trying his best.

"You don't believe that," I say flatly. He's about to protest but I interrupt, "I wish you wouldn't fight in the army. I'm going to be worried about you,"

"Catnip," he rolls his eyes, "We all know you'll be in a lot more danger than me."

I let out a weird choked laugh and manage a shrug. Because everything he said is true, but it still doesn't change anything. I hug Gale, pressing in close to him and try to hold back my tears. Because somehow, my subconscious mind must know what will happen next, and how this will be the last time I see him before I go in the arena, probably ever.

Peeta has become very against my going to the arena, not saying that he wasn't always but he used to seem to know I would go and that he couldn't do anything to stop me. Now, unfortunately, he decided to stop me.

I blame Johanna. She is very, very against Jameson leaving her side ever and will not let anyone hurt him. She decided that Jameson and I should just not go to the arena and the Mockingjay Forces should just go to rescue our families before the Capitol can get to them. Of course, that would never work.

Peeta and Johanna, the unlikely tag-team, have been floating around this idea for a while. They're trying to persuade everyone else that we shouldn't be sent to the arena. The oddest part about this is that Jameson and I already said we would go, and are not backing down and throwing our families under the bus. When people start taking the idea seriously is when we start to worry.

"It's not half bad," says Haymitch when they bring it up later that afternoon.

"We could easily rescue the families," says Plutarch fairly.

My system has long been programmed against hope so I just scream, _No you couldn't, _inside my head.

"Please, Katniss, it doesn't have to be this way," Peeta pleads. It's hard not to give in to him.

"We could even send out troops to rescue the families as early as tomorrow," Cinna adds helpfully.

"You know what, that's it. It's settled. You're not going back in, kiddo," Haymitch decides.

"No, it won't work! They will kill Prim." I say angrily.

"We can rescue her too, wasn't the plan to rescue you both from the arena? Well now we'll just have one less person to worry about," says Haymitch.

Jameson and I are outraged. We're not letting are families be killed. We protest from many angles until Haymitch is just yelling at us. That's when we break, smile, and nod, say "Sure, we'll go along with your little plan," and leave for some peace. It's very beneficial to us that some people don't appreciate the power of lying.

I leave lunch early that day, feigning stomach ache. I don't think anyone buys the excuse but they probably just think I need some time to myself; I don't have many days to live left anyone. I am surprised when I meandering down the halls to be grabbed by a strong arm and pulled into a cave room.

"Katniss Everdeen," I hear the deep voice of Jameson and see a lamp flicker on. "I know you are planning on running to the Capitol's meeting place and I want you to know that I am planning that too."

I am stunned, I thought my acting had improved since the Games, am I really that easy to read?

"I think we should go together," he continues. Then he sets a black backpack on the vacant bed that belongs to whoever rooms here. He pulls out a parchment that's rolled up like a scroll. "I have the map to the meeting place," Then he takes out a tracker gun. "And I have this; we'll have to put in our own trackers."

I look warily at him; me and Jameson know each other, but now well. I don't always take to strangers, especially when they suspiciously have all the supplies needed for a mission I were planning on partaking in.

"I knew Thresh, probably better than anyone except for his grandmother," he says quietly. "I knew Rue too, but not like I knew Thresh. He was like a brother to me."

"He was a good person," I offer.

"He was," Jameson agrees. "I trust you are too Katniss Everdeen. I want you to trust me."

I make a split second decision, "I trust you," I say.

We take turns inserting our trackers, a painful but necessary business. After we're finished, I look at Jameson.

"So we meet in the dining hall around midnight? I have laundry duty after dinner; I can nab us some invisi-suits."

He nods gravely, but then his face splits into an unexpected grin, "I guess we're allies now,"

I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, "I guess we are."

Stealing the camouflage is too easy. Dinner comes and goes with nothing interesting happening except for me trying to subtly say my goodbyes. I sit with Madge when I'm eating. Gale and Peeta usually sit with us to but Gale is discussing ambush tactics with some of the other soldiers and Peeta is with Haymitch, planning the arena rescue.

"Remember when you said you thought Gale was only using you to get to me?" I ask randomly in a silence.

"Yes," answers Madge, startled.

"I don't think he is." I say nimbly.

Madge laughs politely, "He's in love with you Katniss," she says.

"Not anymore," I say. "I'll always love him but not like that,"

"Well," says Madge quietly. "You know how I feel about him,"

"I think he feels the same way," It's odd, as always, for Madge and I to talk about boys, or anything at all really. But I have to set up the pieces of my life so that when I'm gone everyone will be happy. "Why wouldn't he,"

Madge blushes, "I don't know if you noticed Katniss, but I'm not brave and strong like you,"

"Yes you are Madge," I say, "And you're a good person. I don't know if I am," my voice trembles.

"Don't be silly, Katniss. Of course you are,"

Madge and I embrace and I try to put a lot of unsaid things, things that I can't say without throwing off the plan, into that hug. I really will miss her.

Haymitch is also a tough one. I visit his room after dinner and find him with his favorite company; a drink.

"Hey," I say.

"Hullo," he returns.

"I was just thinking, and I never thanked you for keeping me alive all those times,"

He laughs, "It's my job sweetheart, don't think I did it personally," he sees my face and just says, "Just kidding, though you're very annoying, headstrong, and stubborn, I actually do care about you."

I scowl, "The feeling is mutual," I turn to leave before I can get all sentimental. Haymitch can read me like a book so I had to say my hidden goodbye quickly. He won't mentor me this year. On the broadcast about the 76th Hunger Games it said that they have all new mentors this year. Same with stylists, so no Cinna. It's too easy to tell Cinna everything on my mind, so I can't say goodbye to him.

Peeta is the one goodbye that I can't face, either. I can't make my mind believe that I'm never going to see him again. I wish we could recapture how it was on the roof of the training center before the Quell; at that time I was lying to myself but at least they were happy lies. Now all I have is reality. This is why I said I would never fall in love. There's no room for beauty or happiness in Panem, only survival. But I couldn't even stick to that moral.

We turn in early to our room, my decision. I have to get him to fall asleep before midnight, when I will sneak out to meet Jameson and escape. I just lay with Peeta and let him tell me he loves me and kiss me and tell me it's going to be okay. The latter is not true in the slightest but I pretend to believe him. I tell him I love him to. It's true.

I don't know how it happens, but I end up drifting off very early into the night. I remember pleasant dreams when I wake, but the memories are filled with a sense of panic; I have to meet Jameson! I quickly glance at the digital clock; it says 12:03 AM. I can still make it.

Hurriedly untangling myself from the comforters I realize something is wrong. Peeta is gone. I don't know where he is, it could be anywhere, probably nothing. I can't worry about it when my window for escape is opened. He's alright. I start to make the mad dash to the dining hall knowing I've forgotten something but not what. I have the two invisi-suits slung over my shoulders and I don't know what else I would need.

Whilst running, I make contact with someone wandering the halls. They smell familiar to me, like bread and frosting and home. Peeta's arms clench around me and I know I'm busted.

"Peeta! I was just…um," I babble.

He laughs grimly, "Please, Katniss. I know what you were just doing,"

I hang my head.

"And," Peeta continues. "I brought you this,"

He pulls out a miniscule little camera.

"Plutarch was going to give it to you before you went to the arena. This is how you communicate with him about the rescue,"

Does this mean Peeta is letting me go? Has he given up on me? I'm so shocked that I only fumble when Peeta tries to hand me the cam. I must be bad because he just pins it to the collar of my blouse himself. I get goose bumps when his hands brush against the sensitive skin near my collarbone. Peeta brushes a strand of hair from my neck and his eyes are intense in the darkness.

"I don't want you to go. I just know that you're going to do what you have to save your family," he's said this all before but I listen hungrily as ever. It's refreshing, I would be mad if he tried to stop me now. "And Katniss, I love you!" he continues, "I'm going to make sure you're rescued,"

I nod, unsure, and then give in to the desire that's been ridden in me since we crashed. I take Peeta's face in my hands and kiss him frantically, knowing this will be the last time I do so. There's the familiar longing again that I know so well and neither of want to let go of each other. When Peeta pulls away first I'm a little confused, until I see Jameson.

"Katniss," he says, "Finally. What took you so long, we have to get going!"

My arms are still around Peeta and I look up at is face, knowing that I do have to go.

"Okay," I answer Jameson.

I can't say goodbye to Peeta, I just force myself to let go of him and walk with Jameson. I feel Peeta's eyes watching me go. That's when I remember what I've forgotten.

"Wait!" I say to Jameson. "My pin, I need to get my pin!"

The golden mockingjay is still on my dresser in my room. I can't not have my token, my one piece of my left behind District, and still represent the rebellion I've worked so hard to defend.

"You can't go back," Jameson booms, hearing another stirring. "Someone's coming,"

I'm torn. Then I hear an uneven tread of Peeta racing up to me.

"I almost forgot about that too," he says. "Don't worry, I have it right here for you,"

He gives the pin to me and I treasure the moment, the last moment, when our hands will touch. I clench my fingers around my pin like a life line and tear my eyes away from Peeta's.

"We have to go!" Jameson booms.

I run with him, looking at the vast blue seas that are Peeta's eyes and watching the tides run rampant as a single tear escapes. Putting on the invisi suit, I vanish from the world and try to leave the feelings I know aside.

Jameson and my run is a blur. It's a night and a half journey. I don't rest or sleep or stop, I just try to suppress my sadness. I'm sure that's what Jameson is up to as well, because we don't talk but I'm always touching his arm to make sure we're still together. We're invisible after all. We don't check the map until we reach a dense forest, then Jameson carefully opens his palm, where it is clenched, and sees we're on course.

The mid day sun burns down at my vanished body when I see it. A humongous orange cross etched across the hard earth. It's made out of shiny plastic and must be the meeting place; it's the only burst of color among the stretches of brown and green. Jameson and I walk right up to it and then I speak.

"We're here," I say to the Capitol, stripping off the invisi-suit. "Happy now?"

Jameson appears too. "Oh they must be happy. But the citizens of the Capitol won't be, they care about you now, Katniss Everdeen. I hope the Capitol knows that,"

Ruining the Capitol-defying moment, my stomach grumbles loudly.

"And," Jameson continues, "When you come to get us, please bring food."

Jameson and I sit down on the edge of the cross thing.

"This sucks," I say. He nods bleakly.

And it does. When the copter arrives, much earlier than the due date, they must have cameras; they don't even bring us a snack. Of course, I shouldn't care about that.

Peacekeeper Romulus Thread exits the helicopter, flanked by two others. They grab Jameson and me roughly and we're immediately handcuffs. I try to cause Thread a bit of grief by raking my sharp nails down his arm when he imprisons me. His grunt gives me satisfaction.

My head bumps against a metal bar and a goose egg rises. Its dark in here, we're in a separate compartment with no seats or pilot in sight. I sense figures, at least three, also cowering in the blackness.

As my eyes adjust, a face is swimming into my view. It's a face I know well, but distorted so it takes a moment to recognize. Once rosy, the cheeks are pale, and purple shadows circle the blue eyes. The lips are cut and bloody and tendrils of blonde hair fall in limp tendrils over the bruised forehead.

It takes all the strength I possess not to cry out, not to scare her, when my little sister Prim wraps her twig thin arms around me. I put on my game face, hold her tight and decide that someone's going to pay for this. Because this is war.


	15. Chapter 15

**I TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE. Sorry, forgive me…love you :)**

Chapter 15

With Prim tucked under my arm I get a bit of my old self back; the girl who lives purely to save her family returns. It's been nearly a year since I've seen her. Living in the Underground I've mad more choices for my sake then for my sister's. It was a new, somewhat refreshing, lifestyle for me, knowing she was in capable hands. Now I see that thinking that was just as frivolous as putting myself first for that brief spell.

Prim is as bright as a star, but she used to be so naïve she could've been living on one. I know she's learned a lot about the rebellion but I don't know exactly how much. So I cut to the chase.

"Prim, the Capitol probably has us bugged back here, so we can't talk freely," I say quickly.

Prim bobs her head, setting her now straggly blonde hair a quiver.

"I know, Katniss," she says softly. "I promise I won't say anything stupid,"

It's odd for Prim and I to skip all the formalities of meeting and go straight back to our usual way of talking, but not unheard of. The same sort of thing happened when I cam back from my first Games.

"Oh Katniss, don't know what we're going to do," she trembles into my shoulder.

I rock her back and forth, something I did when she was little and a lot when our father died. I hum Mountain Air quietly, despite the anonymous others that are still slumped with us in this compartment. The song soothes both of us for who knows how long. At least until a snarky, superior voice materializes from the far corner.

"Actually, you can speak freely," it says. "I deactivated the bugs earlier. We've got until the dunderheads in the front seat realize that to talk without worrying,"

I turn around to pinpoint the speaker. My eyes take in a girl around Prim's age and I decide the speaker must've been her. Her wiry build is apparent even with her limbs in their crouched state and she has the District 8 look about her. She must be the niece Snow Reaped for Beetee. She looks a lot like him, only her flowing pale brown hair suggests otherwise. I try to remember her name; it was Lyra, or Tyra or something.

"I'm Myra," she says matter-of-factly. I knew it was something like that. This girl must be smart, like Beetee, if she could deactivate the bugs so seemingly easily. She even had the same school-teacher vibe to her.

"I'm Kat-" I start uncertainly until she interrupts me.

"Oh, I know who you are, you're the reason we're in this mess," as she says this her little nose crinkles in distaste.

"It's not her fault Myra," Prim chastises fairly, and then to me, "These are the other tributes, Mr. Mort and Mrs. Undersee,"

Mr. Mort, Enorbaria's husband, seems too far gone to even acknowledge we newcomers. He stares at the wall, muttering soundlessly to it with unsettling pain in his eyes. He must know that his wife's gone; I'm glad I don't have to tell him.

But it's Maysilee I focus on. Dark circles and laugh lines incase her light blue eyes and her blonde hair shines jewel bright in the shadows. I've never met Madge's mom until now; it's true that she spent half her life in bed back in D12. But I feel as if I know her. Her mysterious past with my parents and Haymitch, plus my friendship with her daughter binds us somehow. One factor, bigger than all the others is connecting us, but I can't put my finger on it.

"Please, child," she whispers to Prim, "Call me Madylin,"

"Why?" I ask, suddenly angry at this woman for never telling me about her plans for rebellion when it would have been so easy for her and could've helped me so much. "Why shouldn't we call you by your real name, Maysilee?"

Mrs. Undersee gasps and Jameson looks at me strangely.

"Katniss, I assume you are talking about Maysilee Donner and I know for a fact that that girl died in the 50th Hunger Games."

"You're right, my sister did die in the Games," Maysilee sniffles.

Prim touches my arm as if to say "Katniss, please," in a disapproving tone. She doesn't appreciate my interrogation of Maysilee. She sympathizes with her because, in a way, they are alike too. Prim's sister is going to die in the Games, too. But I don't listen to Prim this one time.

"You know who I am," I retort to Maysilee. "You know who my mother is, who my father was, who my mentor is…"

I'm hoping that mentioning the Mockingjay Society members will make her more inclined to tell the truth.

"Please," she pleads, "Don't make me talk about them now. It's always been my fault, everything my fault,"

Watching the woman blame herself I draw another interesting parallel; at this exact moment I see myself in Maysilee, and that scares me.

Maysilee pulls herself together and asks an abrupt question, "Is Madge alright?"

Her eyes are wide as saucers and I realize that she might not even know her daughter is alive. I'm not sure how the Capitol got Madge in their clutches, seeing as I do know that she escaped the firebombing of D12 with Gale. They must have captured her somehow along the journey.

"She is fine," Jameson booms.

"And…Haymitch?" Maysilee adds timidly.

"Fine," I answer icily. I don't know what her relationship with him was or is, but I do know that she had a husband that wasn't him. "Why do you care?" I add in spite, feeling very loyal to Haymitch.

"I care about Haymitch a lot, more than you know. We had a falling out years ago,"

This is the second time I've heard about the mysterious falling out.

"Even if I had the chance, I couldn't go back to him now. My husband is dead. That's a horrible reason to go back to an old flame," says Maysilee with tears in her eyes. Then those eyes close and she presses her delicate fingers to her temples. A pained expression takes over her face and she lies down in the little space available, suppressing a moan.

"It's another of her headaches," Prim explains quietly.

I frown; I will have to question her more later.

The next little while passes in much of the same way, Lincoln murmurs sadly to his wall, Myra sulks in the dark and makes occasional snide comments, Maysilee sleeps, and Prim and Jameson chat.

I can tell that Jameson will soon adore Prim, like everyone else. Prim, like a magnet, draws everyone in because she's sweet, smart, and scowls considerably less than me.

Her growing friendship with Jameson and probably the other tributes too, worries me. In order to keep her alive, considering the rescue doesn't work out, I will have to kill all of these people. I can't count on the rescue happening, I need to have a plan. My plan has to involve killing.

But I don't want to kill anyone. Not the other nameless tributes, not these people who were taken because we, the previous victors, tried to save ourselves.

I suppose Prim's lovable nature will give her an edge with the sponsors. If there even are sponsors available to us. These whole Games seem more like a punishment than a competition to me, they could just make it a public execution with no arena. I'm grateful they didn't because with this method I have a slim long shot of saving Prim, but really there wouldn't be much of a difference.

After about an hour of this contemplation, I notice a shift in the direction the copter is flying.

"What's going on?" I ask, hoping we're not already at the training center, where we'd surely have to stop talking freely.

"Gee, we're flying downward, that couldn't mean that we're going to land could it? God, some people…" scoffs Myra.

That does not answer my question.

"Are there any windows in this thing?" I continue, searching the walls as the mild turbulence rocks us.

No one answers.

Finally, I find a tiny porthole. It's a little circular thing at the top of a far corner. I peer through it in an awkward position, not wanting to sit on anyone in our confined space.

The scenery outside the window is sparsely greened terrain awaiting a tumultuous, frothy sea. I see two figures trying to swim away as the landscape hurtles towards us in our quick descend.

We touch down and the helicopter vibrates a little because the landing had been hasty. I don't have time to think about which District we're in or who those people are, even though in the back of my mind I'm sure I know. I see Peacekeepers race out over the land and dive into the water through my small peep hole. They hold their guns aloft but must tuck them under their arms when they swim.

I make my vision home in on the two swimmers that are being hunted. I squint and try to recognize their faces. One being has bronze hair plastered over his forehead; this fact, coupled with my eyes depicting a face, handsome even in distress, tells me who he is. At this moment, I know the answer in my heart. The swimmers are Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair.

I watch the Peacekeepers advance, not able to comprehend that Finnick is being hunted. He is the best swimmer I've ever known but, somehow, Annie is better. She could easily speed away safely, Finnick is telling her to. He's saying that she should leave before any harm comes to her and let him fight off the men and women in the white suits.

Annie won't leave. Finnick has no trident; he just beats up the guards with his bare hands, treading water with his legs expertly to keep his head above the tide. Annie clings to him, not as a flotation device, but because she's genuinely scared. Her long dripping hair makes her seem even smaller than she is and there's a glint in her eyes. I recognize that glint; it's the glint of madness.

I watch the scene from the tiny porthole, oblivious to the others pressing against me, wanting to get a peek of what is going on.

The water is stained with red now, with Finnick's blood. He's being extracted from Annie. Another helicopter zooms into the thick of things and a claw protrudes from the bottom. The hand scoops up Finnick and he is dangled in the air. At that moment, my panic goes into overdrive. The helicopter's claw reminds me of the ones that pick up bodies in the Hunger Games, dead bodies.

I search for movement, a sign of life within Finnick. I am relieved when I get my wish. He flails about, trying to reach Annie who is at least a meter below him. She reaches up and manages to grab one of his hands. She stays hanging from it, like a lifeline, until two Peacekeepers seize the moment to capture her. I watch as Finnick and Annie's fingers slip apart.

The copter that Finnick occupies speeds away. I slide down the wall and don't look out the window any longer. Finnick is in danger and if the Peacekeepers aren't killing him now, it won't be long before Snow has his way.

Just then, I hear a loud clunk followed by hysterical crying. Also I am splashed with something wet. Turning around, I see a sopping Annie Cresta bawling her eyes out and rocking back and forth, knees pulled up under her chin.

No one reaches out to comfort her at first, none of us know how, so it's just an awkward silence until she begins speaking.

"Not again…can't do it, again…won't do it…" The words come out chopping and racked with sobs.

I don't think she knows where she is or who we all are. After several painful moments, her misty blue eyes travel over to me. At first when she stares at me she's the same crazy girl I've heard about, learned about, and now met. But then something inside her snaps, I see her become saner.

"You understand," she breathes eagerly. "You get it. You know how it is to think you'll never have to go in again, but then you do have to, don't you? And more, you understand the rest, I think you do,"

"Yes," I answer simply. "I understand."

And I do. I get how it is to be promised a safe life but then to be thrown back into the arena, like a fish hooked out of a pond and then throw back in. The fishermen just keep throwing the fish back in over and over, and then hooking it and pulling it out again. And now the fish has so many holes in its lip from so many hooks that it will never be the same. And I know the pain of leaving the one you love behind and not knowing if they are safe.

Annie reaches out urgently and grabs my rough calloused hand with her warm wet one. The sanity is still with her and she's going to tell me something very important, something crucial to my survival and maybe my existence. I can tell all this by the frantic way she looks into my eyes and the phantom words on the tip of her tongue.

"What is it? What is it Annie?" I ask hurriedly. But then her eyes mist over and she looks away distractedly and crawls over to the porthole.

"I do love the sea," she says dreamily to no one in particular. "I grew up right on the coast and I had his cat, Barmey. But she drowned, in the sea. After that, I didn't love it as much…"

Annie stares out the little window in her soaked white dress, wet brown hair cascading down her back. Lyra makes a cuckoo noise and I sigh. Just like that, Annie is gone.

After a while I feel the copter moving downward again and this time it must be for the training center because there are no more prisoners left uncollected. There are things I have to say before we're taken out of our safe confinement.

"Listen up everyone!" I start. I'm not usually the leader type but desperate times call for desperate measures. "There's a plan to rescue us and all the other tributes from the arena."

There are gasps from almost everyone and Maysilee has sat up. Jameson knows what I'm talking about though, this isn't news to him.

"I think that we shouldn't, you know, kill each other. We just need to stick it out until they come for us. If they don't, well…"

We look at each other uncomfortably.

"Why would we be rescued, Katniss? The Capitol thinks the Games are lovely fun," Annie pipes up.

"Because, Annie," I explain, "The countries in full scale rebellion."

"I think what Katniss is trying to say is," Jameson takes charge, "We should form an alliance,"

I nod, "Who's in?"

Maysilee agrees quietly first, Lyra grudgingly says "What other option do I have?", Annie is still clinging to me so I guess that's a yes, and Finnick will kill me if the chance arises and I abandon her, even Lincoln leaves his wall for a moment to whisper a shivery okay. I don't need an answer from Jameson, as we decided on our alliance earlier, and Prim is obviously staying under my watchful eye.

As the helicopter touches down I blurt out one more thing to Maysilee.

"Will you tell me anything more about your sister's letters?"

She contemplates for a moment and looks sadly, almost regretfully, at me, "No. I can't." The answer was to be expected but it's a disappointment all the same.

The guards release us from our little room and we are handcuffed and escorted to the training center. This is not a yearly concept with the Games, just another thing that's changing. I turn to Prim, whose hand I still hold, and try to offer some comforting words.

"Whatever happens, I'm going to get you home safe,"

Looking down at her little pointed face I see her mouth is in a hard line and there's a beady gleam in her eyes, which means she hasn't given up on me yet. I guess it would be hypocritical to save her and tell her she can't try to save me, but that is exactly what I'm going to do. She shouldn't take after me in this field, she really shouldn't.

But I guess I will soon find out just how much she takes after me in the field of war and weapons because, after the handcuffs were taken off and we traveled up the lift to the District 12 tribute room, a woman with slick back black hair and sparkling green eyes walk stiffly up to us and announces something I wasn't expecting.

"Good afternoon, ladies, I'm Ghita Hume and I will be your new mentor."

**I truly hope you liked that over the treacherous wait. I usually try for updates on Fridays and Saturdays but that wouldn't work this week because tomorrow I'm staying overnight at my school for the 24 Hour Famine. Is anyone else participating in that?**

**Also you might want to google the name origins of Ghita and Hume. Make of that what you will.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey, I'm sorry I took forever to update again. I'm just super duper busy lately! I have a music festival I'm singing in coming up and two auditions. Wish me luck? Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 16

The world sways a little when I stare at Ghita Hume and her glinting green eyes. Looking at her closer I see that I overcompensated her age. She's more girl than woman, at oldest I would guess that she's my age. She looks harmless. Her naïve face beckons me in but I know better than to trust her. She's Capitol and, in my life, that means murderer.

I reject her beckoning eyes and ignore her hand shake-expectant fingers. I force Prim behind me, I don't want her in contact with the scum either. Maysilee watches the scene in a strange partial way, her head tilted slightly to the left and eyes glazed off into the distance.

My new mentor is still staring at me but I don't want her to train me. I don't need to be trained but, if I have to be, I admit that I want Haymitch.

Ghita Hume is shaking in her Capitol-made boots. Her passive façade earlier seems to have been a defense mechanism. I don't trust it.

"Actually, I'm just Ghita," just Ghita says. Then she teeters on a decision, and unexpectedly pulls me into a hug.

The hug occurs without my consent so I make quick work of confusedly extracting myself from her warm embrace. Then she rounds on Prim.

"I feel so bad for you all!" she gushes. I knew I couldn't trust her.

Apparently, judging by the fact that Ghita is now smothering Maysilee, I need to explain some things to her.

"We're not friends," I scowl icily. "The Capitol is trying to kill me. You're from the Capitol; hence, you're trying to kill me."

She shakes her head quickly and starts talking. Persistent.

"No, Katniss! It's not like that!"

First name basis. Huh.

"Katniss, I want to be on your side!"

I can't believe how stupid she thinks I am. I'm not going to fall for this and then be embarrassed somehow before the Capitol kills me. I'm scared that Prim's falling for the little actress's words. She's so gullible sometimes.

"Really, Katniss, I've always wanted you to live, ever since your very first Games!" Ghita says.

Great, I've got myself a fake fan. Before I can give her another slice of my mind, a disturbance arrives in the form of two armed Peacekeepers entering our room, without knocking. Moments before the door is flung open, Ghita Hume's lying kind eyes become stone and her back erects.

The guards peer at us tributes cruelly and with malice. I'm sure that the Capitol has stopped hiring Peacekeepers because they want people to enforce the rules. Now they're enlisting cold-blooded fighters who don't mind taunting the suffering.

"Everything good here…Ghita?" asks the big, burly one of the two. He says her name with uncertainty, like he doesn't really know it and thinks she's of little importance.

"Yes, I have the tributes under complete control, Peacekeeper Spool," Ghita says stiffly. She's bothered to learn his name.

"Good," says the smaller, more whiskery man. "I thought we might have some trouble with these ones,"

"Yeah," chuckles the larger. Then he walks over to me and, to my disgust, reaches out a calloused hand and tilts my chin up roughly, "Especially this one," he says.

I swiftly force his hand away. "You must've been pretty worried if you had to come up here and check on us just minutes after our arrival," I scowl. It's true that I don't remember this custom from either of the previous Games I participated in with Peeta.

"True," wheezed the smaller man.

"Is that why you're here? We were never checked on in any of the other Hunger Games,"

"What makes you an expert," the bigger man sneers.

"I've played twice." I say.

They consider, "Touché," gives the smaller one.

This aggravates me, "I've won twice," I remind them, a little threateningly.

The bigger one takes a step towards me, "Third times the charm," he teases meanly, "Maybe this time someone will finally be able to snap that pretty, little neck."

That comment sends me over the edge and I lunge at him. My bitten-down nails curl into a tight fist and I throw the punch. But something stops my hand from making contact with the dog's face. It's a slippery, pale arm attached to a hand with a pink manicure. The arm grabs my fist when it's just a millimeter away from the Peacekeeper. I can only assume that the owner of the arm is behind me because I'd been caught of guard. I was right, the person flits out in front of me and frightfully bubbles out a sentence.

"Katniss leave the nice guards alone," quivers Effie Trinket.

I turn to her. I feel like we should hug or I should smile, something to acknowledge the fact that this woman was with me through two years of struggle, maybe she even cared about me. Still, she only ever watched as I was thrown into the arena.

Effie looks embarrassed. It probably has something to do with her attire. It looks like she just got out of the shower. She sports just a fluffy full-length pink bathrobe that's thankfully fastened securely around her waist. I can see a mousy brown, which must be her natural hair color, curl escaping from the fuchsia towel that's wrapped around her head. The men find the fact that she isn't put together very funny, maybe I would too if I weren't condemned; they are laughing.

"Someone was in a rush," one guffaws.

"She's all wet," the other smirks.

"The tributes are here and I'm their escort, I'll keep them in check. You can go now," Effie tries to say matter-of-factly.

"Ha-ha," laughs the burly man. "You think you're so important. You're the escort of District 12, which doesn't even exist anymore. All you have are these knock-offs and the over-used heroin."

Effie looks down pitifully, her confidence shaken.

"Don't talk to Effie like that," I say.

"Oh yeah?" asks the big one as he starts towards me.

The other one puts an arm on his back, "Come on," he says.

The big burly Peacekeeper obliges and they leave the room, the door only slams after the big one has spat in my direction. A moment passes.

"Well, that was very rude," Effie says affronted. She's much more confidant without the guard's presence. "I must go fix myself up," she straightens her towel and bustles off to the bathroom.

Ghita awkwardly shows us to the sitting area that I know so well. This place almost feels more like my home than the new house in Victor's Village which, I remind myself, is now destroyed. Well not like a home, the bad memories, nearing death sentence, and national exploitation sort of take away from that, but it somehow feels like it's mine.

With the guards away, Ghita detaches herself from her stiff posture and turns back into the gushing girl she was before. Maysilee seats herself dreamily in an arm chair and Prim and I share the sofa.

"I really am on your side, Katniss," Ghita says. "I'm not lying to you, I have to pretend in front of Peacekeeper Spool and Peacekeeper Thimble and the rest, but it's the truth. My parents were mad at me so I had to lie to them too. We're all supposed to hate you."

I don't answer. I'm not going to tell her anything. I'm not going to fall for any more of this deception.

"I believe you, child," states Maysilee. Ghita smiles and I have to resist scowling even more. I'm getting the sense that Maysilee will hitch her wagon to whoever she thinks can protect her the most at that particular moment.

"Thanks, Madylin!" glows Ghita. "But all of you should know that I don't think we should tell Effie about our alliance,"

You can make alliances with people on the side lines now? Maybe it has been too long since the last time I was in the Games.

"We shouldn't tell anyone. The fewer people who know, the better,"

I have to admit that Ghita has a point there. If I trusted her I would agree.

Just then, the topic our conversation revolves around returns. Effie enters with normal clothes in their proper place and her wig intact. It's the pink one from the 74th Hunger Games rather than the golden one she sported last year. Maybe the gold associated with my mockingjay symbol was too dangerous to wear on her head, maybe it was just her preference, I don't know. Effie sits down with us and soon two anonymous Avoxs bring us blueberry tea and danishes. They look very scared to show any emotions to us and their dark eyes dart around. They leave quickly and don't silently respond to my thanks.

"Oh, Katniss!" Effie says loudly. "I must have forgotten to turn the fan off in the washroom," She smacks herself in the forehead lightly.

Now that she mentions it, I do hear a slightly vibrating sound.

"Would you mind going to turn it off for me?"

"I'll go!" Ghita pipes up.

"No, no," Effie stops her hurriedly. "Katniss will,"

Ghita frowns and I get up uncertainly. I walk off to turn off the fan for Effie, thinking something is suspicious the whole time. As soon as I open the washroom door a cloud of floral scents hits me. Whatever body wash Effie used is too strong for my tastes.

I flick the fan off and immediately see my reflection staring at me in the darkness. The mirror on the wall is foggy from the steam of the shower but there are strange streaks marking it. I it the lights and investigate.

My findings: first of all, my hair has fallen out of its braid, and second of all, someone's dainty hand has scrawled a message into the mirror's condensation. If that someone isn't Effie then I will be thoroughly confused. The message bears four words; _I'm on your side._

Okay. Effie seems more probable than Ghita, whom I've just met, but still, she's Effie! She'd do anything to advance herself in Capitol society. Aligning herself with me would put her in serious danger, especially when she works in such close quarters with the Peacekeepers. I think of the way she wanted Haymitch, Peeta, herself and I to appear as a team with matching shiny tokens, the time she said Peeta and I were diamonds born out of coal, and the fact that she's incapable of lying. At that moment, I riskily decide that I trust Effie Trinket. Hastily, I wipe my hands over the glass until the words are unrecognizable and then I go back to the others.

Maysilee must have had yet another headache because she's drooped over a chair with her eyes closed. Effie is sitting up and sipping tea. Prim has a mug too and her little fingers are wrapped all the way around it. Ghita is speaking.

"….no one wanted to, naturally. So we were all rounded up and they drew twelve names from a large ball,"

I joined Prim on the couch again, not understanding. Prim reads the look on my face and starts explaining.

"Ghita's just telling us about the Other Reaping," she says, quite calmly for a girl who will be fighting to the death in a few days, like she's listening to a bedtime story.

"What's the Other Reaping?" I question.

"Well, Katniss, after your little episode in the Quarter Quell it was decided that the old mentors could not be trusted. Previous victors are just too powerful, Effie tuts. She's acting well to cover up our newly made alliance.

"But no one wanted the jobs, right Ghita?" asks Prim like she's searching for approval. Prim is too lovable for her own good.

"Right," Ghita acknowledges. "Not after what happened to Seneca Crane,"

_You guys know about that? _I wanted to pride fully ask, but instead I opted for, "Seneca Crane wasn't a mentor, he was head Peacekeeper!"

"Same thing," Ghita Hume waves it away. Capitol people. "Anyway, so Pres. Snow forced us to do something like your Reapings for the Hunger Games. Except ours was for mentors and all ages,"

I'm glad the President cares enough about his meaningless tributes to randomly pick mentors like Ghita to train us and take care of our sponsors. Really, is he even trying to put on a good show this year?

Nothing of interest happens until it's time to see the competition on TV. It turns out that today is the actual Reaping Day. Jameson and my escape made us a little early.

The TV depicts the state of Panem like nothing else. All the people stare angrily at the cameras from every district. No one makes any threatening actions, they're too scared, and the tributes are all frozen and fragile. From the Career districts, no one volunteers. It must be the first time that's happened since the premiere Games.

After the Reapings, Effie and Ghita make small attempts at conversation but all we tributes want to do is sleep so we soon retire to our rooms. Of course, Prim and I share.

It seems like Prim plays dress up with all the fancy clothes for hours. I remember my first Games and how unaffected I was by the limitless couture. Granted I was concerned of dying, but even if I wasn't I wouldn't have cared about the clothes. Prim and I contrast that way, she inherited my mother's love of luxury, while I'm my father. Finally, Prim decides on a blue silk nightie and joins me in bed. I'm sleeping in my clothes, as usual.

When Prim snuggles up to me in the pillows, I realize how scared I am to lose her and how much I don't want to be a contender in these Games. Seeing the Reapings today, I felt the now-familiar feeling of how I don't want to kill anyone. I want to protect, and with my sister that feeling is only more enhanced.

We lie there quietly and Prim fiddles with my hair. I stare at the wall, trying to be strong. I don't want to show weakness. I don't want to scare her. But, as always, Prim can pick up my feelings.

"Are you scared, Katniss?"

"No," I scoff.

"Are you sure?" she asks again.

"Yes, Prim. You're going to live. We both might live."

There is a long silence.

"I'm scared. I'm really scared," whispers Prim.

"I'll protect you," I counter.

"I'm not scared for me," Prim explains like it's the simplest concept in the world.

"Then why?" I ask softly.

"I'm scared for you. You can't always protect me Katniss. Please just try to keep yourself alive too!"

I'm quiet for a long time. I know that I can never put myself first out of the two of us. I'm sure she knows I'd sacrifice myself in any situation, it's not like I haven't done it before. But I can't say that, I can't let her lost hope.

"Katniss…" Prim whines.

"Okay Prim. We'll both live alright? And then we be happy forever and no one will try to hurt us again because the whole world will love us and all the bad guys will disappear."

Prim contemplates.

"Okay," she states.

I laugh and roll over. I will miss that girl.

Tomorrow we will ride the chariots through Capitol streets in some crazy getup designed by someone that's not Cinna. I don't know how the crowd will receive us. Will they still love me? Will they be scared to support me? Will they hate me? How will that affect Prim, my one true concern in this Game. I remember what President Snow said on the broadcast that told me I'd have to come here again. He told the audience that I wasn't in love with Peeta, and that I never was. Yes, they are all going to hate me.

Thinking about Peeta is hard for me. It's much harder being here without him. I think that sometimes you have to live without something to realize how much you really need it. Peeta is the something that I need.

Looking at Prim's sweet sleeping face, with all her troubles melted away, I decide that it's much harder to be the strong one that pretends everything is okay than to be the one who gives in to the nightmares and always has that beautiful blonde boy to console her when she wakes up.

**Alright, there it is. Poor, poor Katniss. I wish she could have her Peeta right now. But she can't. I hope that you thought it was alright/worth the wait!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys the chapter is finally up! Sorry for my hiatus but it was a mixture of no motivation and distractions. I just finished up with my auditions so most likely chapters are going up a lot closer together from now on, seeing as I have to have this finished before August 24****th****.**

Chapter 17

"Katniss!" I hear Effie's shrill voice shouting. "It's time to wake up, the prep team is here!"

I groan, roll over and jam the pillow over my head.

"Come on!"

Prim shakes me gently and I open my eyes blearily for her. I see her combing through her soft blonde hair with her fingers.

"Don't bother," I say, "Venia, Flavius and Octavia will do that for you,"

"Venia, Flavius and Octavia are here?" asks Prim excitedly. She knows my pets from the wedding photo shoot last year and gets on with them well. They are fond of her too, just like everybody else.

I bite my lip when looking at her smiling face. Maybe I spoke too soon. Maybe the Capitol has taken away my trusty prep team just like everything else. But, as it turns out, keeping the same prep team was one thing they were capable of.

"Katniss!" shouts Flavius as they walk in. He kisses me on both cheeks and Octavia and Venia wait their turns.

They immediately start chatting about hair, makeup, fashion lines, designers, parties, basically everything that's not important to me. I am soaking in my usual tub of nasty smelling ointment to get me nice and hairless and so are the others. Prim chats good naturedly with them but I stick to my usual prep team strategy: well placed nods, smiles and "mhmm"s will keep them out of my hair…not literally.

The constant babble sounds good in my ears; it is something that I can rely on whenever they are near. But it's a little different this time, not more subdued, but like something, a voice is missing. In my reflections I realize that there's something I haven't addressed.

"Hey!" I say suddenly, "How come you guys aren't all scared of me? After what President Snow said about me blowing up District 12 and going for the Capitol next I thought that…"

"Oh Katniss," says Venia, "Don't be silly. We know you. We know that you would never blow up District 12."

Wow. Even though my prep team can be swayed in a second about what's in and what's out in the fashion world and they would never be caught dead associating with someone who isn't in the right crowd, they trust me. Maybe I was wrong about their loyalties all along.

When Octavia announces that the wardrobe must have arrived downstairs by now, Venia and Flavius clamber to accompany her in her journey to collect it. They bustle out of the room leaving Prim, Maysilee and I, now fully prepped and wearing robes. Effie and Ghita are present as well, Ghita in her relaxed stance again.

"Hey Ghita," Effie badgers. "You wouldn't mind grabbing us some drinks would you? I'm sure the tributes are thirsty…"

Ghita pouts, "I'm a mentor, not a servant,"

As soon as the prep team disappeared she went back to her immature self. Behind the sulking I can see Effie's glittery fake eyelashes flutter as she pulls an exaggerated wink. I see, she has another something to tell me, without Ghita present.

"Now that you mention it, Effie, I'm parched." I play along.

"I'll get them!" Ghita shouts. She's always eager to help me and get under my good graces. I feel a pang of guilt. Maybe she truly is on our side. But I can't go thinking these things when the possibility is so slim. She's Capitol. But then again, so is Effie.

Now that Ghita is absent, Effie rounds on us.

"Right," she says shakily, like she's beginning a speech that she's prepared. "In today's ceremonies, you are to cooperate. Do everything Thread says, he's going to instruct you when we go down to the chariots. The real plans begin on interview night. I've been talking to Haymitch and-"

"You've been talking to Haymitch!" I gush excitedly.

"Shush and yes," Effie warns. "If all goes smoothly, you'll be getting out of the arena before the President knows what hit him,"

"Yes, but when has anything ever gone smoothly?" I ask darkly.

My mind wanders. Effie has never seemed this bright; intelligent enough to be a part of a top-secret plan. Has she been playing dumb the whole time or is she getting something out of this? _Breathe, _I tell myself, _Haymitch trusts her so you should too._

"What about Ghita?" Prim asks timidly, "Can she be included in the plan?"

"Prim," I say pityingly. "All the evidence points to the fact that she's working for the Capitol."

"Suppose she's not, I mean all the other evidence pointed to you and Peeta being in love, but you said that was all an act…"

I look down. That might've been true when I said it but it was in no way true now.

"The child has a point," Maysilee says. She's been drifting in and out of reality, a headache bothering her as usual. Effie obviously doesn't see her as a threat to the plan because she didn't eliminate her prior to the conversation.

"No, I think we should just-"

"Hey guys!" I hear Ghita's bubbly voice say, "I got the drinks!" She presses a glass into my manicured hands that's full of florescent pink liquid called lemonade.

"Thanks," I manage to mumble before the prep team bumbles in carrying a box each.

"-Suspense is killing me! It doesn't even say the designer?"

"No, I wonder if it could be Koworta Giovanni, she's pretty up and coming right now!"

"Yes but Koko is working on a night wear line right now, I don't know if she would have the time…"

"Well come on over ladies and let's find out!"

I head over to Flavius who bears the box labeled Katniss. He sets it down on the carpet with a huff and I bend down to open it up. The tape proves to be a sticky situation but after a couple minutes of struggle I fling off the lid.

Flavius takes the garment in his hands. It's a full flesh colored bodysuit made of very fine and stretchy fabric, not unlike the ones I wore in previous opening ceremonies.

"Hmmm," he muses, "A little plain but –Oh!"

He's spotted another piece in the box so he gives me the suit to hold. Up close it has a slight shimmer and feels like nylon. This is Cinna's work, I'm sure of it. But how?

Flavius has now picked up the second item, a little black box. I see a switch after closer inspection, it's a control panel.

"Goody, another light show!" Flavius spills as he reads a tiny scroll of instructions. "Yup someone will have to flick this when you're on the chariot and you'll be ablaze again. Oh, it says Katniss is supposed to do it halfway through the journey…that's odd…"

I shrug, I've seen odder. I turn to see what Prim and Maysilee got in their boxes, though I'm still imagining trapped, tortured, or, _gulp,_ dead versions of Cinna. How did they get him to design this if he's presumably safe in D13? Unless this is an old design, a test design, that was lying around from before the 74th Hunger Games. It's a weak theory but I cling to it for dear life.

Meanwhile Prim is brandishing a baggy T-Shirt with matching shorts. They have thick horizontal stripes of alternating gray and black. The generic jail uniform. Maysilee has the same outfit. They are prisoners.

"Well it's certainly…" Octavia begins.

"Grunge chic?" Venia finishes.

"Yes, exactly," Flavius says uncertainly.

They don't get the symbolism I guess.

Walking out into the chariot row is a different world from any of my past Games. Normal tributes skitter away from me frantically, like I'm diseased. I don't look intimidating; in fact I look pretty soft. The peach jumpsuit doesn't scream danger; it just hugs every tiny curve of my body. My hair isn't even in its recognizable braid, it hangs in loose curls to my waist. It's grown a little the past year. The simple make up on my face can't be frightening either.

It's the special tributes that break my heart, each taken for a corresponding victor. They are all dressed like Prim and Maysilee, in the jail outfits, and they all have matching expressions: pure sorrow and worry.

Romulus Thread marches over, looking businesslike, to our little District 12 corner.

"Peacekeeper Thread," Ghita says attentively.

"Yes, yes," Thread says impatiently. "I need a word with the older Ms. Everdeen,"

I glare at him pointedly and he tries to take my arm but I whack him with it instead. By then we are a few feet away from everyone else. His cold eyes bore into my own.

"Have you figured out who made your clothes yet?" he asks menacingly.

"Cinna," I say through gritted teeth.

"Yes," drawls Thread slowly.

_Is he alive? _I want to ask. But I can't. It would show weakness.

"He's alive," Thread whispers nastily, "As long as you do what you're told.

At this moment I realize how much taller Romulus Thread is than I am.

"You're scared of me," I bluff. "You know I can shout things when the camera's on me. Tell everyone what a liar the President is. I can cause rebellion. I can cause mutiny."

"You will do no such thing!" Thread thunders and, before I can stop him, he grabs a fistful of my hair and lifts me inches off the ground with it. "You do and Cinna will be murdered," he breathes into my ear.

Effie rushes over.

"Peacekeeper Thread! There's no need for that behavior!" she exclaims shrilly.

Thread puts me down and I massage the nape of my neck. Effie and I walk back over to Prim, Maysilee and Ghita, and, to my disgust, Thread follows.

When he has us all cornered he says icily, "Here's how this is going to work,"

Thread snaps his long fingers, a signal for four armed Peacekeepers to arrive, each with a prisoner in tow.

"Myra!" Prim shouts and Beetee's niece, who was being held captive by the big, burly Peacekeeper who tormented Effie yesterday, breaks free and hugs Prim halfheartedly.

Jameson and I embrace quickly as well. Annie and Lincoln are both silent.

"You," Peacekeeper Thread continues, "Are getting your own chariot,"

It takes an hour to arrange us intricately on the chariot pulled by two charcoal grey mares. In the center of the platform there is a short pedestal that I am standing on. The other six are strewn across the platform sitting and kneeling. The worst part is the chains that connect them to me. My wrists and ankles are laden with the things and strings descend attaching the other tributes.

The person who designed this arrangement is genius. No one will be able to deny that the rebellion is my fault and I am the evil mastermind after tonight.

"I'm sorry," I mouth down at the others.

"You should be," says Myra.

The procession begins. Spectators ooh and ahh at chariots one through eleven because those tributes sparkle and shine like they're supposed to. Eyes glaze over us like they're afraid to stare. I'm clutching to the little black box through the whole ordeal, just waiting until we're halfway through the rack so I can do what I was told to.

The moment arrives and I flick the switch. The next few events are jumbled in my mind. I hear a clutter and see Prim catch the control panel which I appear to have dropped. Then I hear a scream. By the time I figure out it's my own, the pain sets in. Every bone in my body is charred and my skin is shouting for relief. I see the flames licking all over me and it looks normal, just like jumpsuits of the past, but every inch of me feels it. Girl on fire has never been such a literal term. I have set myself on fire.

The crowd starts shouting, some laughing menacingly at me. I have no fans anymore, not after I supposedly betrayed their beloved Peeta. No one will help me except for Prim and Jameson who struggle with the switch trying to stop the flames that attack me. But it doesn't work, and I know it won't work. I won't stop burning until the Capitol wants me to so all I can do is writher.

I try to stop moving, to stop screaming. I try to show that I am strong and they are not succeeding at hurting me. I stuff my hand in my mouth to stop the noise and it's a big mistake. My hand is on fire. My mouth is on fire.

I see the huge TV screen to the left all zoomed in on me and my screaming face. We're nearing the end of the journey. We're on the last block. In the distance I can see President Snow sitting at the front of his mansion with a big smile that stretches his puffy lips.

I keep screaming until the chariot stops moving and the flames disappear at once. Now I'm just shaking as ash falls to my feet.

Jameson carries my shaking, charred form back to the car awaiting Prim, Maysilee, Ghita, Effie and I. He is like the big brother I never had and I might have to kill him. It's a cruel world.

"Effie?" I sniffle in the back of the limo, "Can I talk to Haymitch?"

"Katniss!" she trills, "Don't talk about him so loud."

Then she draws a slim pink cell phone out of her equally pink purse. "Quickly and quietly, this is the only way to contact him without people knowing.

I find him on speed dial and it doesn't even finish the first ring before he picks up.

"Katniss,"

"Hi,"

"I saw you on TV today,"

"I know,"

"They're going to pay for this."

"I know,"

There's a pregnant pause.

"They took Cinna didn't they," I say. It's a statement, not a question.

"He went out in an invisi-suit to try and get us more food. Supplies are low here. He never came back."

I gasp, "How would they know where to find him?"

Haymitch clears his throat gruffly, "There's a spy here, sweetheart," he says.

I gasp again, "What are we going to do?"

"What you're going to do is stay alive. What I'm going to do is…I'm going to find out who it is."

"Katniss!" yells Effie frantically as the car starts pulling into the training center.

"I have to go," I tell Haymitch.

"Hang in their kiddo," he says. Then he hangs up.

I give Effie back her phone and she slips it out of sight. We troop up to the District 12 room and I make quick work of brushing my teeth and checking for any flame damage. My skin looks just as pristine as it did before the incident but it still tingles painfully. We all go to bed early but not before eggs can hit my window. I look out of it and see people with a sign that says "Katniss Everdeen is a Liar". Not very creative of them I decide and get under the covers.

But I'm not tired. It's midnight and everyone else is asleep and I have to train Prim tomorrow, we all know Ghita has no real skills in mentoring, but I'm not tired.

I sneak into the sitting room and see Effie's purse right where she left it. I look through it and find what I'm looking for, the slim pink cell phone. I look through the speed dial and find Haymitch's number again. I must be able to reach other people from the Underground on it too. I call.

"Hello," I hear a gruff voice answer. Gale. Why Gale is answering Haymitch's phone, I don't know, but I'm happy to hear his voice.

"Gale!" I nearly shout and have to clap a hand over my mouth.

"Catnip?" he asks. "Oh God are you okay?"

"I've been better," I admit.

He laughs his husky laugh.

"How are you?"

"Well this is a picnic compared to what you're going through," he says bitterly and I can tell something is really wrong.

"What is it?" I say, I can see right through him.

"Madge is the spy."

His words echo through my brain a dozen times, _Madge is the spy, Madge is the spy, Madge is the spy_…..

"No," I say in horror. "That's impossible! She was locked up in the Capitol! Why would she..?"

"That's just it." Gale says. "They recruited her when she was in the Capitol."

There must be a reason. There has to be a reason.

"Why would she do that Gale? How do you know? Is she still there in the Underground with you?"

"Slow down," he says. "I know because she told me. She told all of us. She says it's because they told her they'd kill her mother if she didn't. They gave her little cameras and she put them in all the important caves,"

_No, _I'm still thinking,_ no, no, no. _Madge seemed so surprised when she found out Maysilee was alive; she was that good of an actress? But then again, I guess we're all good at pretending by now.

"She's still here, the traitor," Gale says. "Haymitch says she has to stay."

"Maybe it's not that bad? She didn't want to hurt any of us, it was her mother! What would you have done?"

"I would have rescued my mother without putting my friends in danger."

"It's not the same Gale! Madge isn't the rescuer type! She's more of…"

"The rescued?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"I don't care what she is. She betrayed us. All of us."

"Gale, she loves you don't be like this! You're going to get over this, you're going to-"

"Don't tell me what to do Katniss!" he shouts. "I don't want it to end like this. This could be our last conversation."

"Gale, I go in the arena on Monday. That's in two days, I'm not dying until…well, you know,"

"I meant me," Gale says roughly.

"Gale…no! Don't commit suicide because I'm here! We don't both have to die!"

Gale laughs harshly, "Don't flatter yourself. I'm leaving with the troops tomorrow. We're gonna win some and lose some. Then we're going to come rescue you."

I think of the troops, Gale, Sisi and Ave, little Bonnie and all the rest. They can't go into battle for me. They just can't. They're up against hordes of Peacekeepers, technology light years ahead of them, futuristic weapons that I can't even know about, muttations galore…

"Why did you call anyway?" Gale asks quickly.

"I wanted to….I wanted to talk to Peeta," I say meekly.

Gale swears and I hear him hit something. "Is this how it's always going to be then? You're always going to choose him over me?"

"Gale…no!" I stifle a sob. "Gale, you have Madge, you have-"

"MADGE BETRAYED ME, KATNISS. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO REALIZE THAT?"

"She had to," I whisper.

"Oh so that's how it is? Would you ever sacrifice someone for someone else? No, don't answer that I will. Yes you would and yes you have."

I'm crying full out now.

"You always do this Katniss, you act like you're some God of the world and you can choose who lives and who dies. Sure you're always suffering so it looks like you're the victim, but you kill people. You're going to kill Jameson to save Prim. Do you know how Johanna feels? She cries everyday! And you decide it's okay to sacrifice yourself when it's not your decision! Do you think of how I feel? Do you think of how Prim feels? Do you even think about how your stupid lover boy feels? All you ever think about is your goddamn self!"

"Gale, I'm sorry!" I choke.

"The sad thing is that you think you are," he says bitterly and then I hear him put the phone down.

I don't know if he's coming back and I'm about to hang up when someone picks up the phone.

"Katniss?"

"Peeta!" I say through a sob.

"Katniss, what's wrong? Gale said you needed to talk to me? Are you still hurt?"

"Physically, no." I say.

"What's wrong? Tell me everything,"

"Gale hates me," I begin. "I hate me! It's true what he said I only ever think about myself. I'm a horrible person!"

"No, no Katniss you could never be a horrible person. Think of all the lives you saved, all the people you helped."

"But why did I do any of those things Peeta? Was it because I'm genuinely good or because it would help me in the long run? I don't even know who I am anymore, the cameras they're messing with my head!" I hyperventilate.

"It's okay, Katniss, it's okay because I know who you are. You're a loving, generous, kind, loyal and true person and you've helped people beyond belief. You were the only force that kept your mother and Prim alive during those hard years, you gave Haymitch something to believe in, you have always been a true friend to Gale, and you gave Bonnie and Twill hope in the woods. And Rue, you made her last moments beautiful."

"You're really giving me too much credit. For all we know I made it worse for all of them."

"No I'm positive you didn't, because I'm speaking from experience. You helped me find a reason to help others too, because I wish so much that I could be as selfless as you Katniss."

We sit in silence for a couple minutes.

"Madge is the spy," I say.

"Yes," says Peeta. "We took down the cameras when she told us though but they pretty much have all the information they need now,"

"Tell her I'm not mad at her. And just be a friend to her will you?"

"Of course," he says, "It was my original plan. They were going to kill her mother. Not that I speak from experience here, but I hear mothers can be pretty nice people."

I laugh weakly, "Did I ever tell you I love you?" I ask.

"It might have came up once or twice," laughs Peeta.

I hear someone grunt from one of the bedrooms and decide it's time to cut this phone call short.

"I miss you so much. I have to go though,"

"I miss you too," Peeta sighs. "You're going to be okay. We're going to save you, just hang in there."

"I'll try," I manage but it's a lot harder without Peeta here.

"I love you, no matter what."

The connection is gone and I quickly put Effie's phone back in her purse, dry my tears and go to bed.

**I hope you all enjoyed that, I thought it was really fun to write particularly the conversations! It's going to get very epic the next chapter, as it's the last chapter of part two and then we'll move on to *gasp* part three!**

**Now if you think anyone *cough*Gale*cough* was out of character here just put it in your review (I'm expecting you all to review by now) and I will tell you why Gale wasn't out of character. I actually totally feel for him in this chapter and I know exactly what he's mad at Katniss for and such.**

**Alright so make sure you leave a review and I'll get the next chappie up very soon! ** ** Thanks so much for taking the time to read this! Hugs and kisses!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys I'm back again, and pretty soon for me! This chapters really long to so please enjoy.**

Chapter 18

I've been in the training center and learned at all the stations more than once so I figure I won't be any more prepared after going to the seminar this year. The reason I go is to teach Prim. It is painstaking work and I plan to shelter her as much as possible in the arena but she needs to know basic battle techniques.

"You hold it like this," I explain for what feels like the fifth time, straightening the bow in her arms. "Now you pull back the arrow," I help her draw back her hand. She's aiming for a big target only a few feet away. She let's go of the arrow but it goes wonky and misses the easy X even with my help. I try not to sigh too loudly.

"I'm sorry Katniss!" says Prim.

"Don't apologize," I say, "You don't really need to be able to shoot animals, I can do that…" _Unless I die too soon. _"You just need to be able to protect yourself."

"How do I do that?" Prim asks.

"Well, we should just go play with the knives,"

Playing with the knives doesn't really help either though. Prim can't muster enough strength to wield the weapons, and couldn't take me down even if I let her.

"Okay," I close my eyes after her latest try. "Hurting the opponent is not as important as keeping yourself safe. If someone attacks you I can kill them, but only you can stop them from killing you. It's all in the deflection; you use the knife as a shield. Here, I'll show you,"

As I'm sharing the art of deflection with Prim, the station owner wanders over.

"Excuse me, could you two use any tips or pointers?" she asks.

"I think we're good," I dismiss her.

"Have _you _gone to school for the techniques of weaponry, young lady?" she asks rather icily.

"No but I have lived through the arena twice," I answer testily.

"Fluke," she says off handedly.

"Excuse me?" I ask in disbelief. Prim backs away timidly as I walk towards the station owner.

"Would you like me to show you some of my skills?" I threaten.

"That won't be necessary," she says and skitters away but not before I can hear her mutter, "Peeta Mellark's too good for you,"

"Come on Prim," I say and pull my sister over to another station, one that I know very well. T's the edible plants section.

Prim's knowledgeable at this station too. She knows what's good for eating and what's good for healing from our mother.

"Do you girls need a lesson?"

"No! We're fine okay?" I nearly shout.

"Okay, sorry," the voice says.

I whip around and see that the speaker, the owner of the plant station, is the same man who taught me about knots last year. He has always been kind to me so I feel a pang of regret for shouting at him.

"Sorry I snapped at you," I say.

"It's okay; I get snappers all the time. I've taught a lot of tributes so I know the symptoms," he winks.

I manage a half smile.

"This is my little sister Prim," I introduce. He shakes her hand.

"I've heard of you," he says.

Prim blushes, "A lot of people know about me, probably because Katniss had to defy you guys and all,"

"Yeah, still can't say I'm sorry about that," I say.

"Well," says the man, "If it makes you feel any better, I think they're going about the Games all wrong this year. Sometimes I think they should stop all together,"

"Does anyone else think that?" I ask eagerly, "From the Capitol I mean?"

"I'm not sure, I don't really talk to people that much."

"Well thanks for talking to us," says Prim and we move on to another station.

That day at lunch Prim and I just sit together and I explain some possible strategies to her. The next day passes much of the same, and I am still a little stressed about Prim's less than satisfactory battle techniques. It's the next day at lunch when things get interesting.

We sit with Jameson, Myra and a variety of other tributes. I suppose Annie and Maysilee would be with us too but they haven't even bothered to show up to the training session. The other tributes introduce themselves as Varnish, Taint, Larry, Isabel, and Roger. Varnish and Taint are twins from District 1, so I'm not sure why they're throwing their Career standards out the window to sit with us misfits. Larry is a big boy from District 9, Isabel a dainty thing from 6, and Roger calls the tenth district home. They are all under fifteen years old.

As we munch on our delicious ham and Swiss sandwiches I can tell they are all thinking about one thing: the ties that would either defeat them or bring them victory in these Games.

"So have you guys thought about alliances yet?" asks Larry through a mouthful of pasta salad.

Jameson, Myra, Prim and I look at each other. We know that we're going to stick together thick and thin in the arena because of the pact we made on the helicopter. The question is should we let the others in?

"Conference!" calls Myra and she pulls us away. We put our heads together in a huddle.

"Do you think we should align with them?" Prim asks me.

"I don't know. On the upside, strength in numbers, but on the downside…more people we might have to…"

"To kill," Jameson finishes for me gruffly.

There's an uneasy silence.

"I don't want to kill anyone," sniffles Prim.

I sigh, "People are going to have to die Prim," I say.

"But what about…rescue? If we can just stay alive until then no one has to die!" she argues.

"Be quiet about that!" Myra snaps. "Prim have you ever watched these Games? People die at the first battle at the Cornucopia! Loads of people!"

Tears are flowing down Prim's cheeks by now. I put my arm around her.

"Stop it, you're scaring her!" I say to Myra, and then to Prim, "But it's true. People are going to die. But it's not going to be us,"

"So," says Jameson, "Do we let them join the alliance?"

I look at the other tributes still sitting with big eyes at the table. They look so small and helpless. I can tell that whatever I say goes in this situation. The others are looking to me for the final decision.

"Yes." I say. "We let them in the alliance. But we don't tell them about the rescue. You never know, one of them could be a spy."

The others nod and we return to the table.

"Are you guys interested in aligning with us?" I ask the tributes.

"Definitely!" Varnish and Taint agree simultaneously.

"Yes," says Larry.

Rogers nods.

"Okay…" I say awkwardly, not knowing what conversation to pursue with my new allies. Fortunately the bell rings to tell us lunch is over and it's time to get back on the training field.

"How was training?" Maysilee asks as Prim and I enter the room after the long and wearisome day.

I wait for Prim, who's announced she's going for a shower, to be out of sight before I answer.

"Horrible,"

I collapse into a big comfy chair opposite Maysilee. She looks at me with expectant eyes.

"I don't think Prim can protect herself," I say.

"Oh," says Maysilee wisely. "Then I guess you will have to protect the child,"

I take my face in my hands. "I don't know if I can protect her all the time! What if something takes me by surprise, what if I'm not good enough?" The sentences come out muffled and I'm startled at how frightened I sound.

"Shhh…" soothes Maysilee, "It's going to be okay. Prim must have some talent that she hasn't tapped into yet,"

"Why? She doesn't like fighting, and survival isn't her strong suit,"

"Didn't she learn anything from your father Katniss? Certainly he's been training you girls from a young age. I know that you were the original plan, but Prim had to be available as a backup."

"W-what?" I ask in disbelief. I don't understand what Maysilee is saying. My father…was training us? He had no idea I would ever be in the Games _and _he died before I was reaped.

"Your parents never told you about the Mockingjay Society?" she asks inquisitively.

"N-no…that has nothing to do with me! That was all you guys, years ago with your sister's letters and all-"

Maysilee bites her tongue, it appears that she thinks she's said too much but then speaks.

"What do you know about the rebellion?" she asks slowly.

I feel the need to answer, craving to know the secrets this woman possesses. But I am scared to. I'm scared that what I know is such a huge lie that I will never be able to trust any of them again.

"Well, Haymitch talked to me about it last year right after the Quell on the helicopter. According to him, the rebellion was planned only three years ago by the victors and Plutarch's group…District 12 would be a test rebellion, because we were the poorest district, and they had to wait until someone who could win was picked. He said that when Peeta and I were reaped we were viewed as promising, not that we were planned to be reaped. No one knew that our names were going to come out of those glass balls. Haymitch said that he came up with the plan of the fake romance came from his training sessions with Peeta; said it would be the perfect weapon against the Capitol…" I babble on.

"But that romance isn't pretend now, is it Katniss?" asks Maysilee slyly.

Is she aggravating me on purpose? I don't want to talk feelings with Maysilee; I just want to know if it was a cruel twist of fate that landed me in the arena, or if it was something much more traitorous. Did someone want me to fight to the death before I was even born?

"Just tell me what you know." I say icily.

"You mustn't be angry with me," Maysilee pleads. I say nothing and as she breaks into her story I can see it unfold in my mind.

_The room was a peachy color, with a small chandelier and soft lace curtains on the big bay window. Sitting in the window was Maysilee Donner, wearing a lilac dress. The room felt stale to her, as did the rest of the huge white house that she now shared with Kaul and Pricilla Everdeen and Haymitch Abernathy. The house used to belong to her birth family, but only Maysilee was left by now. _

_Maysilee held in her hands an envelope marked "August 8th". It was one of the letter's Haymitch had salvaged before Madylin's death. Because it was August 8th, Maysilee opened the letter with shaking fingers and read it under the light of the sun._

Dear Maysilee,

Assuming I'm dead, Haymitch won the Games, and all went according to plan, you have read all my prior letters up to this point. If this is the case, and I can't fathom how it wouldn't be, your in the early stages of executing the rebellion and have assembled a team of allies (as I suggested Haymitch Abernathy, Kaul Everdeen, Gage Undersee and our friend Pricilla). If you don't already have Gage on your side, you need him. When I was alive he was the prime candidate for mayor, and you need that kind of inclusion to enlist other people down the road.

Remember, Maysi, you don't have to go through with this. It was my plan and I'm just glad that you switched with me in the justice building and you are okay.

Now, back to the allies. You need Haymitch because he's smart and he can sway people, Kaul is the best hunter we have in District 12 and he has to train the tributes I told you about in my last letter, Gage will help you enlist others, as I already said. Also I included Prissy because of her healing abilities, when the uprisings start you need someone to treat the victims, also she's our friend and, when I was alive, it seemed that she and Kaul were going to tie the knot pretty soon.

For now, just keep an eye out for anyone who could potentially win the Games. I have faith that you will make the right decision, and get on Gage's good side.

I know it will be hard for you to choose tributes to go in the arena (you will eventually be in contact with people who can rig the Reapings) but it has to be done. Don't think of it as condemning them, they are just sacrifices for the greater good. Just like my death was.

Your sister,

Madylin

_That night at the dinner table the Everdeens had an announcement to make. Pricilla was expecting a baby. There were joyful squeals from Maysilee and a happy nod from Haymitch, even though the two were feeling somewhat awkward about the whole thing. Their friends had gotten married a few months prior and that made them feel a little queasy too. Maysilee and Haymitch didn't know exactly where their relationship was going and their friends settling down so early made them question if they were going to spend their lives together too. With Pricilla and Kaul moving into their own place and leaving Maysilee to live with Haymitch alone this became a bigger issue._

_But Maysilee couldn't worry about that. She used most of her time to carefully follow Madylin's instructions about the rebellion. She established a solid friendship with Gage, who had always had a crush on her, though he was never really part of the Mockingjay Forces._

_The days went by and Maysilee found herself morphing more and more into Madylin. She would wake up, check if their was a letter to open and then follow its instructions. When little Katniss was born she had to make her hardest decision yet. It may have been enforced when she overheard a short exchange from Pricilla and Kaul, Everdeen, who were visiting that fine after noon and were staring lovingly at their sleeping baby. _

"_I think I'll teach her to hunt one day," Kaul said, taking the tiny baby in his hands. He kissed her forehead lightly, "She already looks like a fighter."_

_Pricilla laughed, "How could you possibly know that now?" she asked and walked over to her husband and child. "But I'll give you permission to take her out and shoot down a couple animals when she's older…as long as she's safe,"_

_Kaul laughed now, "Of course," he said. "All I'll ever want is for you two to be safe," he added more seriously._

_Pricilla sighed, "If this rebellion plays out well then we'll never have to worry about her getting picked for…well, you know,"_

_Kaul looked at her with a full understanding. He kissed her temple, "I know," he said. The thought of little Katniss in the Hunger Games was too much to handle._

_ From her hovering position in the hallway, Maysilee clapped a hand over her mouth and scurried away because the most horrible, but most promising, thought had just hit her. She ran down the stairs, needing some clear air to think this through. Maybe, just maybe, if she thought about it she would be able to force herself to believe that Katniss Everdeen would not have to go in the arena for the greater good. But it was no use; sentences from Madylin's letter jumped out at her, "_Don't think of it as condemning them," … "Kaul is the best hunter in District 12, he has to train the tributes,". _Katniss would be the perfect candidate. Her father was going to train her from a young age without even knowing it and her mother possessed knowledge of plants and herbs like no one else in the District._

_Maysilee was surprised to run into Haymitch when she rounded through the kitchen –literally. His arms were laden with groceries so he must've been on a generic market run._

"_Hey, beautiful," he said and a corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "What's the hurry?"_

_Maysilee said nothing but quickly helped Haymitch put the food away. Only then did she speak._

"_Haymitch," she whispered urgently. "I have to talk to you."_

"_Okay," said Haymitch, a little fazed by the secrecy. "What's the what?"_

"_Not here," Maysilee continued._

"_Outside," She took his arm and led him out of the house._

"_What's wrong, Mays?" Haymitch asked as he watched her bite her already short nails down to the nub. "Seriously, you're starting to freak me out,"_

_Then Maysilee launched into her speech. She told Haymitch all of what Madylin said about having to find potential tributes. He, of course, already knew about her sister's letters, as did the rest of them, but she had never told him this aspect of the plan. Finally, she told him the worst of it. She told him that Katniss Everdeen had to grow up to be the tribute, that it was her sister's dying wish to advance the rebellion._

"_No," Haymitch stated flatly. "You don't know what you're saying Maysilee. You're talking about an innocent child!"_

"_I know," pleaded Maysilee. "But it's really not as bad as it sounds!"_

"_How is it not as bad as it sounds?" asked Haymitch incredulously. "Not only are you talking about killing an innocent child, but you're talking about killing our friends' innocent child!"_

"_But I'm not talking about killing! She will live! You will mentor her,"_

_Haymitch stiffened. "It doesn't matter if she lives or not. The Games will ruin her life. And I will not mentor her. I'm out! I'm done with you!"_

"_No!" cried Maysilee, "No, Haymitch please! This is what Madylin wanted! The rebellion has to happen!"_

_Haymitch shook his head, "Not like this," said Haymitch gruffly. "Madylin would never want anything like this. She was too good, just like Pricilla and Kaul are. They're good people, Maysilee, and I won't have you sacrificing their daughter and the other poor kid you decide on."_

"_Are you going to do this again, Haymitch?" asked Maysilee hysterically. "When are you going to realize that I am not my sister? You speak of us interchangeably; sometimes I wonder who you really love,"_

_Haymitch closed his eyes. "I loved you, Maysilee," he said._

"_Past tense," said Maysilee, hurt._

"_Yes, Maysilee," said Haymitch. "I loved you before you started killing babies,"_

"_It's not like that!" Maysilee nearly screamed._

"_I don't want to hear it," said Haymitch. "Goodbye Maysilee,"_

_He packed his things and left that night, leaving Maysilee all alone in the big white house of fallen dreams and broken promises._

"It's you then?" I ask. "You're the reason I was thrown into the arena, twice?"

"Really, I wasn't involved the second time," Maysilee explains.

"I don't care!" I shout. "Do you really think its right to just play with people like that? Why does everyone think that they can just use me in their little schemes without telling me a thing?"

"Katniss, calm down," Maysilee pleads, but I back away. "You know that the rebellion had to be started, I know that you know that! It was my sister's dying wish, I had to do it! You of all people know what it's like to do anything for your sister,"

"Yes," I say. "And I thought that's all I was doing when I volunteered to save Prim in the Reaping two years ago, but you probably arranged it like that to give me an edge with the crowds!"

Maysilee looks down and I know that I am right. Prim's slip of paper was one in a thousand; I should have realized this earlier.

"Katniss you've got to understand, I was doing it for-"

"The greater good?" I finish sarcastically. "There's nothing great or good about killing people. I know, I've been on both ends of the spectrum."

But Maysilee says, "Yes, exactly! You know in your heart that it's right to sacrifice people to make Panem a better place! My sister died for it!"

"And now mine's going to," I say bitterly, then run to my room and slam the door behind me.

As soon as I enter the room I see Prim cowering, pajama clad with her still wet hair up in a towel, by the door. She heard everything.

"Do you really think I'm going to die?" she asks frightfully.

"No, of course not," I say hastily.

"But that's what you told Maysilee,"

"That's not what I meant," I force the words out. "I was just angry."

"Do you think mom and dad knew you were going to…?"

I am still seething but I try to be cool, calm and collected for Prim's sake.

"Well, Maysilee said that dad was training me without realizing it, but I think they knew, deep down, but wouldn't admit it. Haymitch must've told them,"

"Well now we know that Haymitch really cares about you," says Prim helpfully.

"Yeah, when I was a cute baby," I scoff. "He told me that the rebellion was planned but I never expected…not this,"

We stop talking for a long moment.

"Is Maysilee still in our alliance?" asks Prim quietly.

"She has to be," I say bitterly. "For Madge. But I'm not going to talk to her if I can help it."

At this point, Effie enters the room without knocking.

"I saw your light on from outside and I was aghast!" she says affronted. "It's late and you two need your sleep. Tomorrow you will do your demonstration for the judges and after that it's the interviews so you need your strength and beauty rest,"

With that she switches off the light and with no ifs, ands or buts I heed her words.

Judges demonstrations go by quickly and uneventfully the next morning and we watch the scores around lunch hour. I get my usual twelve. Prim gets a four. I don't know what she did in the judging room. I vowed for my own sanity that I wouldn't ask her about it.

I don't talk to Maysilee all day and when Venia, Octavia, and Flavius come to prep me for my interview I don't talk to them much either. I am tired of being used in others' plans and last night was the last straw. Even Prim is a little subdued because she now thinks that I have no faith in her surviving the Games.

My interview dress is a dark gray this year, the exact color of a cooled ember and it glows with a red tinge. It is short and stops well above my knees. My legs are slathered with a red burning shimmer too and the red stilettos make me much taller than usual. This is another Cinna creation and I can only hope he's okay, wherever he is, and that his capturers will keep him alive when he's not needed to make any more costumes.

Prim is in a blood red gown that engulfs her tiny frame with its full skirt. Her hair hangs down in ringlets and shines in the light. I don't pay attention to what Maysilee's wearing because I'm too busy not paying attention to Maysilee.

When we arrive to the site of the interviews everyone but our misfit alliance shies away from us like earlier, until a strong looking boy around my age comes up to us.

"I'm Sphinx," he announces and reaches out a hand that I shake uncertainly only to receive a bone crushing squeeze. "I'm Cato's brother," he continues meanly.

"Oh," I try to say something.

"You killed my sibling," says Sphinx. "Now I'm gonna kill yours!"

Prim squeaks and hides behind me. I pet her hair until the threatening boy leaves but I can't help but feel bad for him. I did kill his brother. Reminding myself of what a jerk Cato was, I feel better.

The interviews begin and we get all the usual tribute stereotypes: the ruthless killer, sly sneaky one, confused kid, strong silent type, pretty Career, except the prisoners are very different. About halfway through, Caesar tells the audience that he has an important announcement to make.

"This year the Hunger Games are coming to you in a more exciting way than ever. For a very reasonable price, you Capitolians at home can buy a ticket watch the Games in the stadium behind the force field with the likes of the mentors, reporters and even the President himself!"

Caesar speaks in a strained voice, like he's trying to sound happy about the announcement. There's a wearisome attribute about the whole thing that I can't put my finger on.

The interviews continue and finally it's Maysilee's turn, then Prim's, then mine. For three consecutive years I've managed to get the last slot on interview night. By the time I get to Caesar there are tears in his eyes. Prim went on a big tangent about all the people she will miss when she's dead and how she hopes that I will still be able to live.

When I sit down in the interview chair an instant hush falls over the audience. They stare at me in loathing and I feel the need to defend myself.

"Katniss Everdeen," says Caesar Flickerman. His face is highlighted in orange this year.

"Caesar," I say charmingly.

"I can't say I'm surprised to see you here again,"

I laugh, 'I was pretty surprised, I guess I'm always the last to know everything though," I chance a glance in Maysilee direction.

"Okay Katniss," says Caesar in a business-like tone. "Let's cut to the chase. Everyone here is dying to know your side of the whole Peeta Mellark story. We were all under the impression that you loved him, even thought you married him and were pregnant with his child, but now t seems that's not the case. What's the real story?"

I cross my legs and can feel every pair of eyes trained on me and every set of ears listening for the details of tragic love story.

'In my first Hunger Games," I begin. "I was never in love with Peeta. I thought that he wasn't in love with me either. But I did consider him one of my best friends. I thought we were just playing the cameras for sponsors."

A few people in the audience gasp, and one shouts, "Lies!"

"People do have strategies in the Games you know," I say angrily. "When you're thrown into an arena to battle to your death there are no lines you won't cross."

"Anyway, I didn't realize that I am in love with Peeta until recently." I sigh and look directly at the camera. "I love you, Peeta. Wherever you are," And then to the audience, "Now I'll probably never see him again, but I'm just glad I knew him for the short time I did, and I'm sorry that I hurt him. If I could do it all over again I would open my heart from the beginning."

Caesar dries a tear from his eyes and many crowd members are doing the same thing. But I'm not done.

"I could be with Peeta right now," I say. "So many other people could be together too. Sisters, brothers, lovers, friends…so much sadness could be eliminated if these Games were eliminated. I know it's not your fault, you're brainwashed to think that watching innocent people die is fun from a young age. But if we band together we can be strong!" I look at the camera. "We the Districts, we can fight this! And you, you people from the Capitol, can help!"

I see the camera men look worriedly at each other and know they're going to cut out soon but they don't. They are just as transfixed by my words as the rest.

"Do you want me to die Caesar?" I ask quietly, almost hypnotically.

"No," says Caesar, 'No, I'm sorry! I want-"

BAM.

A Peacekeeper from the back of the room has stood up, raised a gun and shot a bullet right through Caesar Flickerman's chest. Audience members scream and skitter around. They've never seen a Capitolian killed before, and somehow it's different than us lowly District people.

"Caesar!" I shout at the dead man. He's never whole heartedly supported me but he's one of the good ones in the Capitol bunch. "Caesar!"

Today was the end of an era. The government crossed the line when they instructed that Peacekeeper to kill the beloved TV host. No one, not even from the Capitol, is safe if they side with me and I think I can use that in my favour. Because I think the camera's still on and pointing in my direction, I do something very reckless. I take the three center fingers of my left hand, touch them to my lips and then hold them out. Goodbye old world, goodbye old rules, goodbye Caesar Flickerman.

**So that's the end of Part 2, only Part 3 to go now. RIP Caesar. I hope you guys enjoy that, but I have some announcements:**

**Kaul (the name I gave Katniss's father) is actually a type of plant in the same family as Katniss. I don't know if I told you guys that yet but I thought it was cool.**

**If you want to add me on facebook so we can chat Hunger Games, PM me your name and I'll add you. You don't have to though, but I do assure you that I'm not a stalker.**

**Subscribe to MoggyMegs (that's me) on youtube. I'll have more Hunger Games vids coming out in the very near future and a podcast might even be in the works!**

**As always, REMEMBER TO REVIEW! Give me all your predictions on what Part 3 will hold, and your thoughts on Parts 1 and 2.**


	19. Chapter 19

**I've been madly writing since yesterday and you all will see chapter updates a lot more often now that I have less than 50 days to write 8 more chapters plus an epilogue. I hope you enjoy this one, look for an update soon!**

Chapter 19

"You can pull the Katniss tubers out by the roots, just like this," my father tells me. "Now you try,"

I reach my small, pudgy hands into the deep, moist earth and grab at the small bluish plants. After a couple of tries, I've gotten the hang of it and my father and I have collected a good sized pile of my namesake.

"Now your mother can make us a nice stew," my father says. "Just like mashed potatoes,"

"Only easier to find!" I point out brightly.

"Exactly," my father winks. "If you can find yourself, you'll never starve,"

I collapse into his arms, full of the blissful happiness that comes with my father's presence. But then something isn't right. My father is gone; my arms are just uselessly wrapped around the stale air where he used to be.

"Dad?" I ask uncertainly, and then try taking a step forward to look for him. He can't have gone far if I didn't even notice his departure. As I step, I kick a rock forward and it clatters strangely. It fell off the elevator I'm standing on.

This is a very foreboding and familiar elevator. I've been here many times, once a year for school, except the times I made my mother keep me home. It's the lift that heads down to the mines.

At that moment I know exactly what is going to happen next. This is the fake memory I came up with years ago to explain to myself what happened to my dad.

The lift slides to a stop and I hurry out to start bolting down the aisle of cave. I see what I'm looking for immediately: my father's lantern bobbing along in the distant darkness. He's leading the other miners, including one that I now know is Gale's father, down the dangerous cavern.

"Dad!" I shout, because I alone know what's coming. "Dad!" I screech. "Dad, you have to get out of here! DAD!"

A huge explosion sets off and the miners ricochet hither and thither off the rocky walls.

"NO!" I am shouting. "NO! NO!"

"Katniss?" I hear Prim's voice asking faintly, but only after I hear my dying father whisper one last thing to me.

"Find yourself, Katniss, and you'll always be okay."

"Katniss?"

My eyes glaze into focus and I see Prim's anxious face inches from my own, eyes frantic and mouth set in a worried line.

"Katniss, were you even listening to me?" she asks.

I shake my head bluntly. "Sorry, day dreaming," I say. More like a daytime nightmare. "I'm really sorry Prim, what's up?" I ask again.

We're on the helicopter that's taking us to the arena. It's all so surreal to me with Prim here and all that I haven't thought much about it. I haven't had much time to think.

After the murder of Caesar Flickerman and my reckless salute to him on live television, everyone was whisked away. The hysteric crowd didn't need telling twice before getting away from the Peacekeepers. I even heard Venia, Octavia, and Flavius talking in hushed tones about the apology speech the President made on TV later that night. How they spoke of it, not in their usual gossipy way, gives me hope that they, and other flighty Capitolians, can finally see how evil their government is. Murdering tributes every year is one barbaric thing they put up with, even support, every year, but when one of them is taken...they must realize it now.

"Katniss," says Prim, pulling me back into the present. "I'm scared! What do I do once we're in the arena? How do I find you? Where do I go?"

I stroke her hair to balance out the harshness of my words. "Don't approach anyone," I say seriously. "You look for me, if you see me, run to me as fast as you can. If you don't see me, run far away. Find a tree and climb it, stay there and wait for me."

"What if there aren't any trees?" she asks frantically.

I have to stop myself from smiling because I remember worriedly asking if there would be any trees two years ago in my first Games.

"There are almost always trees," I tell her. "You climb one and wait for me there."

Prim nods shakily.

I gulp. "If I die, find Jameson. If he dies...he's not going to die."

Prim's eyes are wide and round but she has to know, and be prepared for my death as a possibility.

Because she doesn't say anything back, I continue. "You know our alliance like the back of your hand, don't you?"

"Jameson, Myra, Maysilee, Annie, Varnish 'n' Taint, Larry, Isabel, and Roger," she trembles. It drilled it to her non-stop last night.

"Good," I say. "But one of them turning on us is always a possibility. Jameson and...Maysilee," I still say her name with disgust after last night's episode. "Are the only ones truly safe to be around. You can trust them."

I believe that Annie is also completely on our side, but because she isn't mentally stable I don't want Prim to end up taking care of her instead of the other way around. Taking care of Annie is solely my job because Finnick would kill me early if I didn't. I owe Finnick after all he's done for me. I love him; he's like a brother to me. A creepy brother that comes on to me a lot, but still a brother. Right now though, my biggest priority is my sister.

"Whatever you do," I say to Prim. "Stay away from-"

"Sphinx," she finishes, looking extremely frightened.

"I won't let him hurt you," I say fiercely and pull her into a quick embrace.

Only when she can't see my face do I let the worry show in my eyes. This is going to be Cato all over again.

"Don't worry," I try to soothe Prim.

"It's hard not to worry when you're being sent to an arena to kill or be killed," Her sentence comes out muffled with her face still mashed into my shoulder.

I laugh a shaky laugh. "Trust me," I say. "I've been there. And you're not going to die."

She pulls away from me and looks into my eyes very seriously. "Neither are you," she says.

Then the escort tells us that we're just about to land and be taken to separate launching rooms. Effie and Ghita didn't accompany us on this trip. We said goodbye to them last night. They were in a right state after Caesar was killed.

I mouth Prim a final goodbye as two Peacekeepers (I recognize them as Spool and Thimble, the men who terrorized Effie) take me away to my slaughterhouse. They shove me in and shut the door behind. It's empty and eerie in here. Something is different from the two times previous.

There's no Cinna here to hold my hand as I wait. There's just a bag holding my arena clothes I assume. I open it and, sure enough, it holds this year's tribute outfit. I'm surprised that it's so similar to the clothing I wore in the 74th Hunger Games: tan pants, soft leather boots, and a button up shirt. The only difference is the shirt's color. Instead of the prior forest green it's a deep, sunset orange.

I dress quickly before the glass tube opens up. When it does I get inside and wait. Again, it's eerie without Cinna's familiar face to look at.

The tube has started to rise and I am bracing myself for the ride I now know well, when I see a figure rush in. It's a figure with golden tattoos on her face and high arching eyebrows. Venia.

"Katniss!" I see her shout. "I'm breaking you out! I've stood by and watched for too long."

And before I can begin to fathom what is happening, she crosses over to the control panel that commands the tube and starts pressing buttons.

The tube is rising at an alarmingly fast pace by now, but Venia manages to stop it. Only my knees down are left in the room now so I crouch to see what's going on when I hear a noise that's loud enough to penetrate the glass tubing and reach my ears.

With my eyes pressed up against the glass, I see that Peacekeeper Thread has entered the room and has Venia by the scruff of her neck. He's yelling things I can't make out, but I do understand when he draws his little white gun from his belt and points it at Venia's temple.

Then, he marches her over to my tube, presses her head against it, and shoots.

"No!" I scream as I see her blood pour down the other side of the glass. There is a fracture crack where the bullet struck it and the impact is still ringing in my ears.

The Peacekeeper walks over to the control panel and, with the sincerest smile at me, presses the button that will complete my journey. With just inches left to rise, I watch him walk out, leaving Venia's dead body soaking on the floor.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Claudius Templesmith is saying. "Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games. Let the Games, begin!"

The gong sounds and I, still stunned and cramped at the bottom of the tube, struggle to straighten up. By the time I'm out and running, half of the tributes have already made it to the glinting gold Cornucopia.

While running, I scan the area for Prim. I'm beginning to panic when I draw near the Cornucopia, which I'm still blindly heading towards, and still can't see her.

I'm so near the pile of loot now that I stop seeking Prim for two seconds to grab an industrial looking black backpack and two long swords. There are no bows or arrows. They would do this to me.

In my hasty pursuit of the weapons, the girl from District 2 that I don't know the name of has grabbed my braid and yanked her own blade under my neck. Without thinking, my reflexes kick in and I punch her in the skull. She's knocked out cold. I teeter for a millisecond amidst the bloody battles, contemplating finishing her off with a slash of my sword. I don't.

Instead I sear the field for Prim. I don't see her, but I do see Sphinx, running savagely with a knife held high. Following his direction, I find Prim. She cowers, still on her plate. I told her to try and wait for me.

"PRIM, RUN!" I scream, then shoot off like a bullet towards Sphinx.

He heard my yell, but doesn't acknowledge it. He just keeps chasing my sister.

Still speeding as fast as I can, I catch up to him just in the nick of time. Prim is a slow runner and Sphinx has his knife raised, ready to strike. I slash my own sword down on him but he avoids the worst of it. I did, however, manage to force a long tear in the left sleeve of his orange shirt. I assume it left a shallow cut as well, because he lets out a low, guttural moan, more anger and annoyance than actual pain. Distraction was the main goal, and I've given Prim time to scramble a few more feet away.

But Sphinx still needs to retaliate. He throws one of the three pointy spears he clutches to his chest at me. It punctures my side and I let out a howl. I yank the spear out of my flesh, turn and throw it right at Sphinx. I get him in the leg and he doubles over.

"Come on!" I shout at Prim, and then wince. Speaking hurts my side wound.

I shuffle Prim along and run to the best of my ability to the edge of a nearby forest. We have to hustle because I know that Sphinx will be on our tails as soon as he can stand.

I pick the first tree we reach and order Prim to climb it. I follow and have to urge her to go up higher.

Cato's little brother is still following us. He's at the base of our tree now and is trying to scurry up it.

I grab some of the little, round nuts that grow on the branches and throw a handful at him. Prim helps and soon we have a pretty good pelting rate going on.

Now that he has to use his hands to shield himself from the nut attack, Sphinx is having a harder time trying to reach us.

"If you come up here," I tell him menacingly. "I will kill you, then drop your dead body from the top of this tree."

He seems to have realized this much because he's now standing back on the ground.

"This won't be the last time you see me," he snarls. "I will come back and kill her," he gestures at Prim. "And then, you."

"I look forward to it," I smile sarcastically.

With one last glare, Sphinx runs back to the Cornucopia to bludgeon some other tributes to death but Prim is still looking horrified at me because of my latest comment.

"That was a joke." I say seriously.

"Uh huh," she says uncertainly.

From our vantage point, Prim and I can see the battles going on over at the cornucopia. The brawls are still pretty thick. Four or five of the unnamed tributes are fighting over the same backpack and I see Varnish 'n' Taint, the Twin tributes from District 1 that we're supposedly aligned with, are struggling to get out of the there. Varnish her arm where blood is pouring out and Taint is trying to carry her away from the battles.

Jameson is hard to miss; he's standing atop the golden horn with his arms laden with backpacks and weapons of every kind lining his belt. If I didn't know him, I would say he is quite terrifying.

A couple of the unknown tributes who were fighting over the backpack run at him and try to steal him supplies but he snaps their necks as easily as breaking a toothpick.

"YEAH!" the crowd roars.

Oh yeah, I forgot about the crowd. Since this Hunger Games is being broadcasted more live than ever, the arena is set up like a huge stadium. The stands circling it must seat at least a thousand people and a thick glass wall separates them from us. I'm sure it's more than just that, there must be a force field too.

The whole arena, like the clothing, is very similar to my premiere games. Where we are, the forest is on the left end, the golden Cornucopia is in the middle, and there is a lake even beyond that. I also can see a mountain and valley a little farther away.

Jameson is still fighting the masses back at the loot pile and Varnish 'n' Taint are struggling against a burly boy who's district I don't know. Jameson seems to notice this because, still with the majority of the supplies on his back, arms and belt, he races over to the twins, scoops one up in each arm and starts bolting towards the forest. Jameson is a good person to be aligned with and he's proved that early on.

As the three of them head to the forest, I try to think of a way to get their attention. If we can just join forces we'll all be a lot safer.

"Stay here," I whisper to Prim.

"Where are you going?" She looks worried.

I don't answer; I just shimmy down the trunk of the tree, carefully look around for Sphinx or any other threats, and watch Jameson carry the twins over. Once they are near us, I jump out from my hiding spot and almost give them a heart attack.

Jameson has one of his muscled, dark arms around my neck, forcing me into a headlock. He's drawn a knife from his belt, without looking at my face, still with a twin on each shoulder, before I can squeak, "It's me. Katniss,"

He peers at my face and decides that I must be Katniss. He releases me slowly and gently and we shake hands.

"How are the Games treating you?" he asks in his deep, slow voice.

"I'm okay," I manage.

"She got speared in the side!" Prim shouts from the treetops.

"Prim, keep it down!" I scold. "And it's nothing,"

Jameson sees the red blood mark on my shirt, then lifts up the fabric and looks at the wound.

"It could be worse," he says. "But it's still pretty bad. I'm no doctor, but I think you shouldn't exert yourself until you get bandaged up and are on your way to healing."

I scowl. "No," I say. "I'm going to play hard to keep my life,"

Jameson shrugs. "At least let me take the first watch tonight."

"We need to set up camp first," I say.

"Where?" ask Varnish 'n' Taint at the same time.

"Can I come down from here now?" Prim yells.

I close my eyes. "Yes, Prim, but you need to be quieter,"

Prim drops onto the ground beside us.

"Hi Jameson," she greets. "Hi Varnish, hi Taint,"

"Hi," they chorus back.

"Now we have to get out of here," I say seriously.

We're still right out in the open, definitely not safe. I can't think of a good place to set up our camp. This arena is not camp friendly like the one in the Quarter Quell and I didn't have to face this problem, really, in the first Games because of my main loner strategy. We could try to find a cave like Peeta and I did, trees are out of the question because all our weight would break any of them. We haven't even found all our members yet.

"I say we camp on the lake," I say bluntly.

"But, Katniss, isn't that where the careers will go?" asks Prim.

"We're going to take the careers' spot," I say.

"Hey we are careers," says Varnish.

"Yeah, training since birth dude," Taint continues.

"Well," I say testily. "You lost that status when you aligned with us."

"We know" they say.

"Do you really think this is a good idea Katniss?" Jameson asks.

"Yes." I say. "From the lake we can get water, see if anyone is coming to attack us, and find everyone else,"

"But...the danger," trembles Prim.

"We have enough people to always have someone keeping watch and, thanks to Jameson, we have basically all the weapons."

There is a pause.

"All in favour of the lake?" asks Varnish.

We all nod.

The trek to our preferred camping spot is nerve wracking. We sprint the main way there, I'm carrying Prim piggyback style and Jameson still has Varnish 'n' Taint sitting on his shoulders. More than once, we see other tributes but most of them just run away from us. Two of the less fortunate try to fight us and are killed by Jameson.

When we are halfway between the Cornucopia and the lake (there's about a ten minute journey left) I spot someone wandering aimlessly around.

"Tribute sighting," Jameson says. "Should we charge her?"

"No..." I say, suddenly realizing something. "Jameson, it's Annie! We have to go get her,"

"Katniss, we have to get to the lake before the careers do."

"I don't care, it's Annie! You guys go to the lake and I'll meet you there with her."

"Katniss I want to come with you!" Prim pleads.

"No, Prim." I say flatly. "You're staying with Jameson."

"I can walk," says Taint and Prim takes his place on Jameson's right shoulder.

"Okay, see you guys later," I say to them.

Then I bolt off to get Annie. She could be shot, or hurt, any moment. She's just wandering near the Cornucopia. It feels like I reach her in seconds rather than minutes.

"Hi Annie," I say lightly.

She turns around and looks at me with her big doe eyes, frightened.

"They're trying to hurt me," she says hysterically. "They want to kill me,"

"They want to kill me, too," I say. "But you have to come with me, it's safe where we're going,"

"No," she shakes her head. "No, no, no! This is a trick! Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not lying," I say gently and try to take her hand.

She shrieks and jumps away from me. "Go away! They're trying to kill me! They're trying to kill me!"

"Annie, listen to me,"

"I can't trust you! I can't trust anyone! Why should I trust you?"

"Because," I say, inching closer to her. "Because I know Finnick. Finnick? Finnick would want you to trust me,"

Annie takes a shaky small step towards me.

"Really?" she asks.

"Really," I say. "Just come with me,"

"I shouldn't come with you," she says warily.

"Please, Annie, you'll be safe where we're going,"

After that I can coax her into coming with me. It takes a long time and I still don't think she trusts me, but at least she's following me. She warily follows me along to camp and, thankfully, nothing or no one jumps out at us. If that happened and I had to kill it/them I don't know if I could get her to follow me again. Annie is still scarred from her first Games, and her mind is damaged beyond repair.

Canons have been firing all day, I just haven't really noticed because everything I've been doing, but when one booms when I'm walking Annie to camp, I cringe. I have to force myself not to think, _It's Prim, it's Prim!_ It can't be Prim. She's safe with Jameson.

When we reach camp, the others are all still present and alive and they found a plus one. Roger, the fifteen year old from District 10 who we are aligned with has found us. I bring Annie into the camp and she immediately sits against a nearby tree and starts watching the scene warily.

"So do we need a shelter or what?" I ask, scanning the underbrush for good building materials.

"No need," says Varnish merrily.

"We found a tent in one of Jameson's backpacks!" finishes Taint.

"Oh okay," I say.

Roger takes charge when we pitch the tent. In District 10, camping for leisure is common.

When we unpack all the other backpacks, we find a lot of good things like packaged food, five big water bottles, two felt blankets, some hats to protect us from the hot sun, and one flashlight. By the time we're done finalizing camp and organizing the supplies, night has fallen. I hear the anthem and look up into the starry sky to see who died today.

They always show the boy from each District first, so when the first tribute shown is a girl from District 2 that Jameson killed I am sad because this means that Sphinx is still out there, biding his time. Both tributes from District 2 died, one from District 3, Isabel, who was supposed to be part of our alliance, is dead, one from each 7 and 8, and Larry, who we were also aligned with. Only eight in total. So there are sixteen of us left, not including our alliance, we have eight foes. This also tells us that Myra and Maysilee are both still alive and just haven't found us yet.

"I hope Myra's okay," says Prim softly. "And Maysilee," she adds as an afterthought.

"I'm still taking first watch" says Jameson after a while.

"I'll take it with you," I say. "I'm not going to be able to sleep with this," I gesture at my side wound. It hurts a lot now and rest will be impossible anyway.

"Fine," Jameson says.

"I can help too," pipes up Roger.

"No, its okay Roger, we'll be fine," I say.

"Oh, oh-okay," he stutters.

Everyone but Jameson and I climb into the big tent and zip it up behind them. We didn't feel safe enough to kindle a fire, that's like saying "Come kill us, please!" in the Hunger Games, but it's not cold. This arena has a very warm climate.

Jameson sits on a log we found and fashioned as a bench and I lay down on a mat Annie made out of some long grasses. We're both armed and I feel pretty safe, which is odd...and fishy. The only thing that could hurt us tonight is the Capitol purposely sending in some monster to kill me. Which is very possible.

It feels very odd with the crowd around the arena now, like we're in a big fishbowl with eyes everywhere. I can't help but whimper a bit. I've held in the pain from the spear puncture all day, so as not to scare Prim, and I have to let a little out now.

"You're side hurts," Jameson says.

"Yeah," I say through gritted teeth. "But I'll be fine."

We hear some branches rustling. Someone is coming. Jameson raises a knife and I sit up a little and grab a sword. The person causing the disruption appears. She has long silver blonde hair, big blue eyes and is around my mother's age. It's Maysilee.

I try to get up and do something but my side doesn't like the movement and I have to stifle a scream.

"Here, let me bandage that for you," says Maysilee, brandishing some gauze she holds in her arms. "I may not be as good a healer as your mother, but she showed me a few tricks of the trade back in the day."

I stare at her.

**So there it is! I decided to start giving you a question to possibly answer in your review (which I expect by now lol). So here is the one for this week:**

**What do you think of my original characters (Jameson, Varnish 'n' Taint, Roger, etc.)**

**Also I have to clear up some stuff. Some people have been accusing me of plagiarism because they've found my story on other sites. I posted it on many different sites so as to get the maximum number of people to read it.**

**-I am Sunny_Rainbow on .net**

**-I am blondeGinny on .com**

**-I am Sunny_Rainbow on **

**-I am PeetaCafe on .net/forum**

**-I am pinkgreenblue on .com**

**If you find someone posting this Fanfic The Mockingjay on any other site by any different name, then it is being plagiarised and please let me now. But all of the screen names above are me.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey guys, sorry for the long time no update (you know me). You can basically be sure that whatever I say will **_**NEVER **_**come true so I'm not going to give you any promise of regular updates because then they will never come true. But I can say one thing, this story is going to be finished before the real Mockingjay comes out on August 24****th****. I'll probably give you 5 chapters on the day before or something crazy (kidding...I think) but you will get all 27 chapters, plus an Epilogue, before SC's Mockingjay is available to you. I mean c'mon, would you really still read this if you had the real Mockingjay in your hands?**

Chapter 20

Maysilee walks towards the log I'm sitting on, perches on the edge, and immediately starts treating my injured leg. She wipes the blood away with a nearby leaf, the gauze is too precious to use. Then she draws a bundle of herbs from the pocket of her tan tribute pants. Herbs unwrapped, she starts grinding the mixture into my wound. It stings a little, but after she finishes treating it and wraps it in a single sheet of gauze it feels much better. In fact, the increase in comfort is so drastic that I realize how painful it was before.

I feel like I should've protested during the whole situation. After all, Maysilee is the woman who went along with her sister's idea of sacrificing my life for the greater good of the rebellion. Remembering this, I glare at her. Perhaps it is this expression that makes Jameson, who has been on watch with me the whole time, get up silently and shimmy into the tent with the others.

I quickly yank my leg off of Maysilee's lap. There's an uneasy silence full of all the unsaid and said things we've exchanged over the past few days. I think of how she consented in sending me to the arena, like a lamb to a slaughter house. I think of how she must've felt when she read the letters that were her only remnant of her deceased sister. I think of Madge and how she's doing in the Underground knowing her mother's in the Games, and of the mask Maysilee put on for Haymitch all those years ago, pretending she was trying to make life better for the people of Panem when she was really ready to sacrifice innocent lives for the revolution.

"So, where did you get the gauze?" I ask in an emotionless tone.

Maysilee reaches behind herself and pulls out a black backpack not unlike my own. They really went all out with the supplies this year.

I feel like I should say something, so I do, stiffly and altogether not warmly, but grateful. "Thanks for fixing my leg,"

We sit in silence for a few more minutes.

"You know I never meant to hurt you, Katniss," Maysilee says to me.

"I'm sure it wasn't your original plan," I whisper eventually. It's still my watch so I make sure to look over my shoulder before continuing. "But when it came down to it, you were ready to let me die,"

I briefly wonder whether the cameras all over Panem are showing our conversation. We're on the brink of rebellion talk now and if the Gamemakers have figured that out they're sure to cut out to something safer, and possibly bloodier. But I haven't heard any canons lately, if there isn't any killing going on then why not focuses on me, the broken heroin?

Maysilee shifts her position on the log and I am startled by the soft noise for a second. When I look for the disturbance, I see that there is a distressed look in her eyes.

"My sister was dead. All she wanted was for me to put on end to this, this horrible madness the Capitol puts on every single year. What would you have done?" Maysilee spiels.

I look at her for a long time. What would I have done if I was in her position? What if I never volunteered for Prim and she had died in the 74th Games. If all she wanted as a death wish was for me to avenge the Capitol for her, who wouldn't I sacrifice? Would I send Peeta into the arena for the greater good? I would not have really known him without the Games, even with the bread incident serving as a lasting bond. I stop thinking about that possibility because thinking of killing Peeta now, after all that we've been through, is too painful. Would I sacrifice Gale if a deceased Prim wanted it? He is my best friend and he's stuck with me through thick and thin. But what wouldn't I do for Prim?

Still, the Maysilee situation isn't exactly the same. She planned my terrible fate when I was just a little baby, maybe even still in the womb. As soon as she decided that the child of Pricilla and Kaul Everdeen would be the perfect candidate to survive the Hunger Games and then win over the Capitol crowds into a victorious rebellion, with the help of her sister's letters, my fate was locked.

"I don't know what I would've done Maysilee," I say after my long period of thinking, "But it wouldn't be the same as what you did,"

I'm not sure what will happen with Maysilee and me or if we'll ever be on good terms again, but it feels like we're teetering on the threshold of something. If that threshold is full out hatred or understanding, I don't know, but right now it seems to be leaning towards understanding.

We sit in silence for a long time until a canon fires and we both jump. We must have been sitting here for a good four hours, although we've only said a couple of sentences to each other. There is some activity in the tent behind us; the canon must have woken someone up. The metal zipper zips open and a head pokes out. And then another.

"We'll take second watch," whisper Varnish 'n' Taint in their usual cheery demeanour.

"Thank you, children," says Maysilee, going back to her faulty, whimsical self.

I, on the other hand, am sceptical on the issue of letting the twins guard all by themselves. They are only thirteen and armed with a sword a piece. But it's better than Prim, my priority, wanting to guard, so I let it fly.

The twins get out of the tent with surprising agility and Maysilee and I scramble in.

The tent is jam packed with people. Annie is on the far left and Prim has sidled up to her. Jameson is beside them, curled up into a ball and taking up much less space than I thought possible for such a big man. Beside him is a mess of blankets where Varnish 'n' Taint must have been before they decided they wanted to guard. Maysilee takes their place so I am forced to lie beside her. Attempting to put a bit of space between us, I roll over as far as I can without laying on top of Roger, who's on the far right.

A pull a tiny corner of blanket up to cover my feet and try to fall into an uneasy sleep. Dreams graffiti my eyelids, full of the fright I feel showing images of my Prim in danger and the others coping back home. Finnick even makes an appearance. I don't know where he is. Is he tied up in a Capitol room somewhere giving information, or worse, already dead?

I am woken a mere hour later by a high, bloodcurdling screech.

Instinct sets in as I immediately check for Prim's safety. She is still in the tent, and, like the others, is opening her eyes in shock at the noise. Annie is rocking back and forth in her little corner and Maysilee is frozen still. Roger is rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out what's going on. Only Jameson has moved; he crossed to the opening and is halfway out before I can remember to move.

I shuffle out the tent after him, sliding the knife I slept with out of my pocket. The sky is pitched black with only a measly few twinkling stars, and the underbrush sways ominously in the wind. It's then that I see a quivering lump, blood covered on the ground. It's Varnish and her brother Taint leans over her.

A few feet away from them is none other than Sphinx. Jameson has a sword out and is battling him. Jameson is a strong fighter, but caught unfairly in the middle of the night, he is groggy like the rest of us. Sphinx must have been planning this because he has a weapon in each hand and moves swiftly like a cobra in the dark.

I scream foolishly as I charge him, single knife held aloft. Together, Jameson and I fight him. With two against one he seems much less confidant. Sooner than later, we have him sprawled against a tree trunk, and are both ready to strike. Sphinx whimpers.

"Do you want to do it?" I try to ask casually, though I am very out of breath.

"No, Katniss let the pleasure be yours," he replies.

I shrug nonchalantly and raise my arm so I can see the blade of the weapon glinting in the moonlight. I raise it higher, ready to strike, when WHAM! An image hits my brain as hard as any punch. I see Sphinx's parents holding each other and crying in front of the TV screen. I've already killed one of their children, and now I'm planning on the second. In a split second my mind covers the remorse for killing Cato, the look of passion in Clove's eyes when she was about to kill me that I now know is mirrored in my own, and the promise I made myself before entering the arena. The promise not to kill, in spite of the Capitol's wishes. To be a good leader and show the rebellion in a positive light.

I drop the knife. "I'm sorry-" I start. "AUG!"

Sphinx's blade sinks into my stomach. It would be my heart if we hadn't pinned him to the base of the tree and I would be dead. I'm not looking too good right now either.

I continue screaming out the pain and agony as Jameson grabs Sphinx by the scruff of his neck and attempts to slit his throat. Though my vision is still blurry from the hit, I clearly see Sphinx slip out of Jameson's grasp and smile at me before he sprints off through the forest.

"Coward," Jameson growls before he really notices the seriousness of my predicament. "Katniss!" he rushes over. "Everyone get out here!" he bellows at the tent.

The troop of four people rushes out. Even Annie comes to us. Prim's eyes are full of tears when she sees me bleeding on the ground.

"Prim!" Jameson orders. "Console your sister."

Prim rushes over to me and takes my hand. The sight of her sweet face does make me feel a little better.

"Roger," Jameson continues, "You told me you have some first aid training, right?"

Roger answers in one swift nod.

"Good. Maysilee where is that gauze?"

Maysilee pulls the roll of bandages from her pocket and tosses them to Jameson who tosses them to Roger.

"Maysilee, come here and tell me if Katniss is going to live if we can bind her up."

Prim gasps and a few tears roll into her open mouth, but this is no time to go soft. That was what got me into this mess.

_I'm going to live. I'm going to live. I'm going to live. _I think maddeningly. _I have to live. I have to live. I have to live. _I have responsibilities. People I need to save. A country I need fix. An unfinished rebellion I need to resolve.

Maysilee gives me a once over and winces. I take this as a bad sign.

"If we bind her," she says carefully. "We can buy her some time, but this needs medicine!"

My breathing is shallow as I try not to hyperventilate.

"We don't have time or resources for medicine, we need to bind her! But Maysilee, I need you to come over here and clean and bandage Varnish's ear. Katniss isn't getting any worse,"

I have to contain myself from screaming out loud now. I don't think this can get any worse.

"But Varnish is," Jameson continues. "The blood loss will kill her if we don't hurry,"

Maysilee rushes over to Varnish and shakily pours a canteen of water over the right side of her head which is coated in blood. I raise myself a few inches to see what's wrong with her –big mistake, my stomach screeches in agony. But when I see what happens to Varnish my head starts spinning and I have to flop back down in an instant.

Varnish's right ear has been cut clean off. Her wavy blonde hair is tinged with red from the blood. Sphinx must have thought she was Prim.

"Roger! What are you doing just standing there? Bind Katniss!" Jameson shouts.

Prim unbuttons my shirt, which is more red than orange by now, to reveal a dark, seemingly deep, wound just to the left of my belly button. Looking at it makes me nauseous so I close my eyes. I feel Roger's fumbling fingers wrap layers and layers of gauze around me, add a splint of wood on each side and tie the material into a neat little bow directly on top of wound. As he does this, I hear Prim shouting at me.

"Don't close your eyes Katniss! Katniss, look at me! Stay with me, Katniss!"

I open one bleary eye and then the other. Prim's tear-glazed face is inches from mine and she holds one of my hands in both of her tiny ones. She's humming Mountain Air soothingly, singing the occasional word here and there. Prim's memory isn't as good as mine, so she can usually just pick up tunes when I know all the lyrics. The chorus she knows.

"Here you're dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true," she sniffles. "Here is the place where..."

"I love you." I finish for her.

Then I black out.

**So there it is. A short chapter, but nevertheless powerful I believe. Please, please, please review (it's the reason I write...that and my obsession with THG). **

**This entries question is...never mind I can't think of one. This chapter emotionally drained me. Just give me feedback!**


	21. Chapter 21

**I really didn't want to write from anyone's point of view but Katniss's (because it's her story) but for this chapter I could see no other option. So it's written from Peeta's perspective. Please read the whole chapter, don't give up at the beginning. I'm sorry.**

Chapter 21: Peeta

"She's dead." Jameson's voice booms from our surround sound as Katniss lies motionless on the ground.

I can't take it anymore. I press a button on the remote to switch off the TV. I know someone will turn it back on after I storm out of here, but I don't care. I don't care about anything, because Katniss is dead.

I get up out of my chair and start stomping away, still not caring about the looks on Haymitch, Gale, Madge, Plutarch, and all of the other survivor's faces.

"Peeta," says Haymitch gruffly.

I turn to him and let my anger get the better of me. "What?" I snap. Haymitch seems to be at a loss for words, so I continue. "We should've gone off to rescue them by now! Why didn't we? We should never have let her go! _I _should never have let her go!"

"Peeta, you can't blame yourself," says Madge softly, extending a hand to place on my shoulder. I move before she has a chance to follow through with the action.

"Sure I can," I say bitterly. "If I had died two years ago like I was supposed to then she would have never been in this mess,"

"Everyone, stop being so melodramatic! It's the Hunger Games. People die! Eventually, you have to learn to deal."

You can hear a pin drop after Johanna says that. Johanna, who has dealt with more sorrow than any of us. When we were captured together, she told me all about how she was an orphan in District 7, and had to take care of her little brother and sister. When she was chosen on Reaping Day her biggest concern was not losing her life, but how they would take care of themselves with her gone. She told me how happy she was when she was crowned victor. So happy because of all the food and riches she could bring back to her siblings. But when she did come back, they were both dead.

Johanna's story is tragic and I felt the greatest empathy for her before now. But at this moment I hate her. I would hate anyone who could blow off Katniss's death like it was unimportant.

Haymitch is the first to recover after Johanna's bold statement. "You were never supposed to die," he says to me. "Stop talking like this, Katniss wouldn't have wanted-"

"WE CAN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WANTED; SHE'S DEAD!" I bellow and then race from the room.

I didn't plan on running to my art room, but it's where I end up. All the drawings I made since we got to District 13 are here attached to the cave walls.

So much has happened since we arrived in the forgotten district. We finalized all the rescue plans, we found out Madge was a spy, but eventually forgave her. But everything here, everything in my whole life really, seems insignificant after the death of one girl.

I look at my paintings and pictures that line the walls and see her face among them many times over. I take one in my hands. In it I captured one of those rare moments when Katniss truly smiled. I stare at it until I've memorized every brush stroke and every line. Then, I rip it up into a thousand tiny shreds. It's gone, just like the girl I once loved.

I am consumed with anger. At the Capitol, for starting and finishing the injustice in my love's life. At the others, for acting like this was to be expected and not going ballistic like me. At the army, for postponing the rescue mission. At myself, for not doing something, anything, to keep Katniss from going back to the dreadful arena. At Katniss, who was so strong she made me believe she could survive anything.

Anger is the second stage of loss. I skipped denial all together because I see the scene of Katniss dying in my nightmares every time I go to sleep; it was believable to me. I suppose depression and suicidal thoughts will come later.

I'm pulling down all of my pictures now and they're all being shredded to litter the floor with the first. When the walls are barren I look at their emptiness and collapse on the ground with the bits of paper. It feels like I should cry, like it would feel good to cry, but I don't. I can't, I'm too depressed to cry.

Why didn't I do something? How come I let her go with barely any protest? That question is easy to answer. It was Katniss. She was going to do it anyways. But I still should have tried. And now it's too late. She's never coming back.

I wallow here in my own despair for a few minutes that feel like hours. All my memories of Katniss flash by my eyes like a silver screen and I make a decision. I have to save Prim. Her well being was Katniss's last sacrifice and I have to make sure she didn't die in vain. When I am sure Prim is safe, I don't know what I will do. I don't know what I have to live for without Katniss.

I don't know what the others will do either. Especially Haymitch and Gale. It was Haymitch's job to protect her and he really cared about her too. Gale probably feels almost as bad as me, in his mind, probably worse. It's selfish of me to think only of myself, when other people loved her too. Who couldn't love her?

I force myself to get up and walk back to the others. I need to know what's going on, and if everyone isn't functioning I need to make sure that the rescue mission is still a go. I need to rescue Katniss's sister. I need to make her last wish come true.

When I'm walking back I run straight into Haymitch. He has a frantic look on his face and a slight smile. How can he be smiling at a time like this?

"Peeta!" he shouts at me.

"What, Haymitch?" I deadpan.

"Katniss is alive!"

I say nothing.

Haymitch shakes my shoulders. "I said Katniss is alive!"

I stay silent.

"I thought you would be happy about this?" asks Haymitch confoundedly.

"I would be," I say curtly. "If it were true. You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

Because lying is exactly what Haymitch would think to do. He will keep telling me that Katniss is alive, but offer no proof of it. Then he will go off to "rescue her" and refuse to let me accompany him. He will come back later with Prim and the others and by then he will tell me that she was dead all along. That's what Haymitch has always done. I was never more than an accessory in the plan of the rebellion and he won't want my feelings to get in the way of the rescue now that Katniss is dead.

That's another thing. Haymitch thinks I will do something stupid now that Katniss is dead. That I will throw caution to the winds and all the rescue plans out the window. It's true, that might be exactly what I would do if we were not in such a dire situation, but I'm not going to give up on the rebellion just because Katniss is gone.

Haymitch is looking at me like I'm insane.

"Peeta, why would I lie to you about this?" he asks incredulously.

"Jameson said she was dead. She's dead."

"No, Jameson was talking about the other girl from District 1! Not Katniss,"

"I don't believe you."

Maybe the District 1 girl was dead, her head wound looked pretty serious, but Katniss was too. I saw her lifeless form.

"Fine," says Haymitch. "I'll prove to you that she's alive."

I walk in his wake back to the TV room.

"See," Haymitch gestures to the TV. "She's alive."

I stare at the screen. Prim and the new boy, Roger, are huddled around Katniss. Her eyelids are fluttering!

"She's okay!" shouts Prim. "Katniss, Katniss! Stay here!"

"Prim?" Katniss asks weakly.

"Yes, Katniss, it's me! Stay with me!"

Katniss places a shaky hand on her head. "So tired..." she mumbles.

"You can't sleep Katniss! Please!" Prim pleads.

Jameson steps in.

"Let her sleep," he says quietly to Prim. "She will wake up again, I promise."

Prim looks unsure, but Katniss has already closed her eyes again.

I can't believe this. Haymitch was telling the truth. Katniss is alive. It's impossible for me to contain my joy.

"Katniss is alive!" I shout to the others.

Haymitch shakes his head, but still with a smile. "That's exactly what I was trying to tell you." he says.

"We have to go rescue them. Now." I say in a finalized voice.

"Peeta we can't, you know the copters aren't ready," Haymitch's voice sounds strained. "There's a real possibility that they could give out in the middle of the journey. We barely even know where we're going."

"Yes we do, Cinna's there and he has a tracking device!" chimes in Gale. "I agree with bread boy. We're rescuing her now! That call was too close for comfort!"

"We don't even know if Cinna's still alive," Haymitch says gruffly.

"He's alive." I say. "We would know if he wasn't. Didn't you say that the tracking device would stop working if he died?"

"Well, yes," Haymitch squirms. "But how do we even know that he's still at the arena?"

"That's simple." says Gale. "Look!" he points at the screen.

Since the Games are being broadcasted "live" this year, there are stands full of people that line the arena. Sometimes the camera scans the viewers. Like right now, for example, it is showing President Snow's box. With him are the prep teams for every tribute, various Peacekeepers including Romulus Thread, and other people who are high up in the Hunger Games industry. Included, for some unknown reason, is a bound and gagged Cinna.

"Alive," continues Gale. "And he's at the arena. Now I'm going to alert the other troops and the pilots and we're going to go rescue them."

Gale tries to stride away from us but Plutarch catches him before he can leave. "Not so fast. This is not thought out at all. We need a more concrete plan-"

"No! What we need is to save Katniss! The army was supposed to leave days ago, anyway."

"Back then we didn't know the planes had issues that could prove to be problematic."

"The planes are fine." Gale snarls and, for once, I'm on his side. We're going to save Katniss.

I speak up. "What about the prototype?" I ask reasonably. "That works fine, it was made weeks ago."

"But that one plane could fit six people at best," Plutarch says.

"Well I'm going!" I say.

"Peeta, your leg-" says Haymitch.

"I don't care. It's never stopped me before."

The look on my face must say it all. They have been trying to convince me to stay behind from the rescue ever since the plans were finalized. But I'm not letting them go without me. If someone is going to save Katniss, it's going to be me.

"Well we all know I'm going," says Gale.

"Me too." says Madge.

"Madge, you can't go. You're just-"

"No Gale, I'm going."

Gale narrows his eyes. I don't know if he's giving up on stopping Madge yet, but I will be on her side if it comes to a vote. We all deserve the right to choose.

"I'm in." says Haymitch. "She was my responsibility."

"Well I can't miss the blood bath," Johanna smiles.

"No, no, no, no, no!" protests Plutarch. "We're not ready for this-"

"Plutarch," says Haymitch slowly. "I know that, being from the Capitol and being a Gamemaker, you always have things planned and prepared. But we're from District 12-"

"And 7!" pipes up Johanna.

"And 7," Haymitch agrees. "And being from the Districts, we know that we have to do or die. We have to act now, or act never. And it's time to act, because this is war!"

One of the survivors in the crowd of viewers walks forward slowly. The young girl Bonnie that Katniss met in the woods last year.

"I want to come too. Katniss helps all of us so much. And I want to help her too."

We look at each other.

"You're right." says Haymitch.

I look at the TV screen and see Jameson carrying Katniss through the forest. We are going to save her. And, doing that, we could just save Panem.

**There it is. If I made you think Katniss was dead, firstly HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, and secondly I'm sorry. No really I am sorry I just couldn't resist. I am sorry I switched the point of view but I thought we needed to see what was going on with the others. Please, please, please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**So finally I have another chapter for you guys as we journey back to Katniss POV. I must admit, it was good to write from her perspective again. I am more used to it I guess.**

Chapter 22

It takes a whole lot of horrible for something to be considered one of the scariest moments of my life, but legitimately thinking I was going to die tonight definitely deserves its well earned place. I am fine now, situated in Jameson's arms as we journey to find a new campsite. We agreed that after all the ruckus we made, with the help of Sphinx; everyone must know exactly where we are. So we need to get moving. My stomach wound still pains me immensely, but I am gritting my teeth and trying my hardest not to show it. Prim will worry. At least she didn't hear Jameson and Maysilee talking about my condition earlier. They don't even think I heard them because I was so out of it. But I did. I heard it all.

"Do you think she will be alright now?" Jameson had asked in a hushed voice.

"I can't be certain," Maysilee had responded. "We bound the wound quite tightly so we don't have to worry about the blood loss. But it's deep. She won't be able to function properly for a while, and by the time she can it may be too late. Running, climbing, any physical exertion, really, is out of the question."

Even in my foggy state, I remember thinking that, in the Hunger Games, physical exertion is kind of a must.

"If she doesn't get the proper medicine...well, I don't think she could last much longer than a week."

"So, what you're saying is," Jameson had asked slowly. "That she has a week to live?"

"Technically speaking, and without the medicine, yes." Maysilee had finished.

"A lot can happen in a week." Jameson had said.

My thoughts tend to mirror his. A lot _can _happen in a week. But hearing that I have a week left to live scared me, and it still does. Sure, I've been on the brink of death many times, but I've never been set a time limit. The deadline makes the impending doom seem more terrifying.

I can't let that get to me now. I still have a job to do, and that job is to make sure Prim is safe and to, hopefully, overthrow the government at the same time.

My possible death wasn't the only drama at our camp last night. Varnish actually did die, from the severe blood loss after her ear was cut clean off by Sphinx. We are all upset about this; Prim cried for hours. I have seen worse than this. Now, when someone dies I seem to go numb and ignore the fact. It scares me. The most torn up, and rightly so, was Taint. My memory is muddled because of the severe pain I was under when my wound was fresh, but I think he tried to stop the helicopter from taking his sister's body after her canon fired. After the loss of his twin he was very confused, almost like he had lost half of himself. He's been sullenly wandering behind us ever since.

The first rays of sunshine are hitting my nose now and I decide I have rested enough by blearily opening my eyes.

"Finally, you're awake," Jameson says in a mock stern voice.

"Ugh, Jameson, I'm so stupid!" I bury my face into his shirt as I voice my concern. My own shirt is blood stained and tied up above the bandage. "I should've killed him last night!"

Jameson knows I'm talking about Sphinx. He courteously doesn't say anything, like agree about my epic mistake.

"Next time I will," I continue with a determined air.

"Yes," Jameson says. "Or I will."

"Katniss, you're awake!" bubbles Prim from below. "Are you okay? Does it still hurt?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine. Don't worry Prim," I lie through my teeth.

Looking down I see that Prim is very sleepy eyed, she must not have rested a wink last night because it was so action packed. She forces her feet to shuffle forward but lags behind us. Maysilee is beside her, making sure she doesn't stop walking. In front of them is Taint and Roger. Taint is looking down, his dyed black hair swooping over his blue District 1 eyes. Even though they aren't talking, I can tell that Roger is helping him by just being there after Varnish's death. I am grateful to him for that. Everyone's morale is low.

Prim looks so tired, she needs sleep. I purposely drop from Jameson's arms. With shaky footing on the ground I look at him.

"Carry Prim," I say. "She's tired."

"No!" says Prim through a yawn, "I am fine!" at the same time as Jameson says slowly, "Katniss, you are hurt. You can't walk on your own."

"That's why Taint and Roger will help me," I invent.

"No, Katniss, you will damage yourself even more." Jameson says as Prim nods.

I look sternly at him and he scoops up a protesting Prim. Jameson may be the strongest, the biggest, and the most valuable in our alliance but I am the driving force behind this operation. As soon as Prim is cradled in Jameson's arms she falls immediately asleep. I knew she was tired.

We continue on. I manage to take a few gruelling steps before I am on the verge of falling. Taint and Roger scamper up and each take one side of me. Then we walk like we're in some weird version of a three legged race.

It's lucky that we're so laden with backpacks, because when we're moving along across a strip of wasteland we all become parched and each have to drink a little from the canteens we possess.

When to canons go off at nearly the same time, we are startled. People are being killed. Two people. And that makes it seem like someone is hunting to me, and I'm willing to bet the mockingjay pin that glints on my sweater that it's Sphinx. Still, I gasp in spite of myself when I hear the canons.

"Do you think Sphinx is going to come for us again?" I ask Jameson in a hushed voice.

"Yes." is Jameson's dark reply. "Even if he does think that he killed Prim last night, he will come back for you Katniss. It's in his nature."

I know that. But still, I clung to the selfish hope that, if he thought that Varnish, the one he killed, was Prim last night, that he would be finished. I had killed his sibling, and now he thought he had killed mine, so we were even. It didn't work like that though. He wanted to one up me.

Speaking of Prim, she is stirring in Jameson's arms. We've been walking for a couple hours. No one knows where we are heading, when a good spot appears we will merely take it. Maybe Prim is finished sleeping. Even with the other boys' help, my leg aches.

"Prim?" I ask coaxingly. "Are you awake?"

She opens her eyes suddenly. "Yup!" and jumps down without warning.

After that, Jameson scoops me up without hesitation or asking, but I am grateful. My side sighs in relief because I don't have to press it to the ground anymore. My leg feels better too, because even though it is the minor one of my injury, it still isn't fully healed either. I perch on Jameson's shoulder so I can be the lookout. If anyone is charging us, we have to know and be ready.

We go a few more meters forward without anything happening. Until I see a disturbance in the distance.

"Jameson something's moving!" I say urgently. "In the bushes, something's coming towards us!"

"Is it...human?" Jameson asks nervously. He knows about mutations and this must be what he is fearing.

I strain my eyes. Is it human? All I can see is branches and trees are parting, like a herd of animals is passing through them. It's then that I notice the smoke in the background. After the smoke is guaranteed, I notice the flames. The fifty feet high flames of spitting orange and red. Yes, the disturbance is human. A crowd of people start running out of the forest opposite to us. They are running away from the deadly fire the Gamemakers sent in, to force us all together.

Almost in slow motion, I look around my shoulder to confirm my horrible suspicion. Sure enough, there is a towering wall of flickering flame advancing on us to. At this point, I decide to use my go-to crisis situation command.

"RUN!" I yell.

And we do. I'm still perched on Jameson's shoulder. We are at the front of the group so I have to turn around to see how the others are holding up. Behind us are Taint and Roger, with Prim suspended in between them, grabbing on to one of each of their hands. They have to keep her going and are doing a good job of it so far. Maysilee is keeping up surprisingly well, I didn't know she was that fast. It's Annie that I have to worry about. She says so little around camp that I always almost forget about her. She's lagging behind. She hasn't been feeling well all day; actually it's been longer than that. She must have a flu virus because ever since I met her in the helicopter days ago, she's been throwing up in the mornings.

Now she is running for her life, just inches in front of the fire. One hand is on her heart, the other on her stomach. This is Finnick's Annie. I think of the time he saved Peeta for me. How I would have felt if he didn't. I have to do something.

Without warning, I jump down from Jameson. I land with shaky footing. The flames are advancing fast now. Annie's already let out a few yelps from the flames licking her back and I can smell the sickly scent of singed hair.

I charge for her, with one arm across my wound, trying to keep the splints in place and the bandages from dislodging. The other arm, the right because it's stronger, I use to propel myself forward. I need it's help because of my shaky leg.

Ahead of me, I hear Prim whip around and shout "Katniss!" but I don't go back for her. I have a mission right now. I look back briefly to make sure Taint and Roger still have got a hold of her. They do. She struggles but they aren't letting go of her. I'll have to thank them later.

It takes me much longer than usual to reach her, and I even fear it may be too late. She's hanging on by a thread. I don't know what my plan is, but when I reach her it just falls into place. I grab Annie's arms and sling her over my shoulder. The extra weight makes it even harder for me to run forward, but I manage to carry on until Jameson runs back to us. The flames are too close now. I can feel the heat. It's unbearable. I start to cry out.

"Let me take her," Jameson says anxiously to me. We are eye to eye, almost nose to nose, and I see that he is sincere.

I shake my head. "No!" I shout. "I have her," I choke out through the smoke. Annie is unconsciously slumped over my shoulder now, but I can still feel her precious breath on my neck. Jameson has saved my life and done things for me so many times I have lost count and I hate owing people. I can't let my debt grow even more.

"You have to let me, Katniss," says Jameson. "She'll die if you don't."

The flames are still advancing and I know he's right.

"Fine," I say quickly. "But don't wait for me; just get her and the others out of her! Jameson, I can't let you save me again. I owe you too much,"

Jameson's already taken Annie from me and slung her over his own shoulder, fireman style.

"Katniss, you are my family now. And families don't owe each other anything,"

I feel tears spring to life in my eyes. Partly the flames attacking them and partly the emotion I feel when Jameson declares that I am family to him.

"Just go!" I shout over the roar of the fire inches behind me.

Jameson sees the hard line my mouth is set in. He knows me too well to think that I will give in at this point.

"I'm coming back for you," he says determinedly. Then all I see is the back of him, running with poor Annie forward with the others.

I'm not a quitter so I'm not going to let the flames take me in vain. I start to run forward, with my injured stomach and bad leg. I can feel the flames licking my calves and forearms. I hear the sloshing sound of my bandages straining against the fresh blood my stomach is emitting from the exertion.

Before I know it I'm face first on the ground after tripping on a root. I splutter and don't even try to get up again. I crawl forward on my hands and knees, carefully keeping my stomach above the dirt, for fear of infection. Death is creeping up behind me when I am struck by a sudden idea.

I grab a low hanging branch of the lone tree that stands in front of me, flip onto my back, and pull myself to the trunk. Then I scramble frantically up the trunk and into the branches. I don't stop until I'm at the very top, leaving a trail of my blood against the bark.

The flames don't reach this high, so my breathing is shallow and fast with relief. _I'm still alive,_ I have to convince myself. Everything is good. Until I feel someone's hand tap me on the shoulder and almost fall out of the tree. I turn slowly, holding a knife and bracing myself, and then I see a pair of brown glowing eyes within the leads. I immediately think of Rue and decide maybe death isn't so far off anyways because I'm obviously delirious.

"Don't look so scared," says the stranger, pulling herself closer to me. "It's just me, Myra, remember? We were supposed to be in an alliance together?"

My eyes adjust to the leafy shadows. Of course, it's Myra, Beetee's niece.

"How long have you been here?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"Ever since the first day. I've been living off ants and these weird nut things," she gestures to the branches with are covered in round dark nuts. "Which reminds me, do you have any food?"

She takes my pack and starts rummaging through it, tears open a package of beef jerky we were saving and pops three strips in her mouth at once, washing it down with a long swig of water from my canteen.

"Hey!" I protest. She simply smirks at me.

"Okay, I have to tell you some things," she says. "First of all, have you noticed who's in the stands?"

I scan over the little piece of stands that we can see from our vantage point.

"Spectators that enjoy watching us suffer?" I try, even though I know this isn't the answer she was hoping for. This girl is really starting to infuriate things. She acts like she's knows things that are mysteries to me. Still I can't let my pride get in the way of possible new knowledge. "Okay just tell me," I give in.

She cups her hand around my ear and whispers it to me, "All the prep teams, Gamemakers, and some Peacekeepers are sitting in the President's box. That includes yours, that weird woman with green skin and the guy who wears purple lipstick all the time,"

Octavia and Flavius. That made sense to me, they wouldn't want to miss the action. But I had hoped they might have had a change of heart after Caesar and Venia's murders. If they even knew about the later.

"Also that normal looking guy who wears gold eyeliner," she continues. "I haven't seen him before, but he's sitting with them and he's bound and gagged. Do you know who he is?"

I clap my hands over my mouth to stop from shouting with joy. Cinna is okay. Well, as okay as you can be when under the complete watch of President Snow. "It's my old stylist Cinna, I thought he was dead," I utter.

"All of our mentors and escorts are there too, I don't know why,"

That meant Effie Trinket and Ghita Hume were here to.

"Mine are on our side," Myra whispers even quieter while tucking a strand of her light brown wavy hair behind her ear. "Are yours?"

I try to pass of a non committal nod that the cameras won't pick up.

"Okay," says Myra. "I think everyone's are, except maybe the normal tributes."

This girl was smarter than I thought. And she seems to be in on the rebellion if she's speculated and noticed this much.

"My parents died in the uprising in my district," she says bluntly.

"I'm sorry-" I begin.

"It's okay." she says. "They died fighting for good. That's the only way to go. So I went to see Uncle Beetee in the hospital, he's here in the stands to you know. Bound and gagged like your old stylist,"

I try to wrap my head around this. Why are they taking the people we care about and throwing them into the stands with the spectators?

Now Myra just looks at me with her big brown eyes and pulls something out of her pocket. It's a small coil of some silver wire that I've seen somewhere before. Of course, I saw it in the Quarter Quell when Beetee was planning to use it to break through the force field keeping up in the arena.

"We are in here, " Myra says slowly. "They are out there. And we need a lot of fighters to pull off the rescue mission when it comes. "

She whispers all this to me very quietly, so the cameras won't pick it up and end our talk of rebellion by killing one or both of us. My jaw drops as I realize her plan. She wants us to break the force field again, and get the spectators to fight on our side. It's crazy, but, as I think about it, I realize it has promise. Even just unleashing the crowd into the arena would create enough pandemonium to distract some of the Peacekeepers and maybe even President Snow.

"That is brill-" I am cut off by the shaking of our tree.

I look down and see a bright blue flame jut out from the massive wall. The fire stopped advancing a few minutes ago, like it hit into a glass wall. This blue flame is just for us, because it slides through the invisible barrier and severs the base of our tree. It crashes down and Myra slides off the trunk. I see her head hit a rock and blood spurt from it as I tumble off. My journey ends in a weird unintentional summersault to the ground. I am somehow unscathed, but my stomach is worse than ever.

Looking around dizzily I see tributes fighting everywhere. The tree delivered us to the heart of the arena, where the fire storm was directing everyone. The audience must've been craving a blood bath. That or the President wanted us to die faster. Option two is probably correct.

_Oh no, _I remember, _Prim! _How did I forget about her! I scan the area and find her. She is cowering behind Jameson, who is fighting off Sphinx. I quickly check to see if Myra is okay (she rolls her eyes) and then run off to my sister and Jameson. I skid around right behind Sphinx and tap him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your brother," I say seriously. "But I can't let you hurt my sister. I'm going to give you one more chance. Leave here and don't bother us again, or I will have to kill you,"

I know that earlier I was completely intent on killing him, but killing an ordinary tribute in the Hunger Games feels like I'm doing what the Capitol wants me to do. And I can't do that. But now, when Sphinx is lunging at Prim again in spite of my warning, I decide that I can make an exception. I advance on him my knife held high, and am about to plunge it into his heart, when someone else does. Someone behind him who I cannot see.

I see the life leave Sphinx's eyes and a look of surprise as his last expression. He falls to the ground and reveals his killer standing behind him. Holding a bloody dagger in a shaking hand with a look of complete shock on her face, is Prim. She bursts into tears.

I cross over Sphinx's body and hug her, trying to make soothing noises. Prim hates to kill things, she even let's bugs live by releasing them from our home, so killing a human being has changed her.

"It's okay Prim," I soothe her. "He can't hurt us anymore. He can't hurt us."

A helicopter descends and thankfully takes away Sphinx's body so Prim is forced to stop looking at it in horror.

The fire has disappeared now and all the tributes are hurrying to get away from the bloody battlefield. Our little group, now joined by Myra, is no different. I'm surprised we all got out of this alive.

We continue on our journey through the forest in silence. No one so much as looks at each other until the voice of Claudius Templesmith suddenly starts speaking. I straighten up. He only interferes if there's about to be a feast, or to tell the tributes that two victors will be allowed if from the same district, only to change his mind later. Over the years, I've had a love/hate relationship with that guy.

Today, his announcement is directed to me and only me and it reminds me of a school PA system. Like the time Gale and I tried to cut class. I was fourteen at the time and we only did it because a huge group of salmon were migrating through a stream in the woods. It was the best fishing conditions that anyone in District 12 would ever see. Anyway we got caught and were called to the principal's office to explain ourselves. So this reminds me of that time, only much more ominous.

"Katniss Everdeen, please come to the Cornucopia," requests Claudius. "There's someone there we think you would like to see,"

After that little speech, I hear someone crying out. I feel my heart sink into my injured stomach. I would know that voice anywhere. Annie knows it too; she looks around wildly for the source of it. They have Finnick.

**SO PLEASE REVIEW!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey guys! It's freaking August! We're in the home stretch for the real Mockingjay which means more work for me and more story for you. I am determined to finish this puppy out before the real Mockingjay.**

Chapter 23

My blood is pounding in my ears as Claudius's request reverberates for a second time in my head; "Katniss Everdeen please come to the Cornucopia, there's someone we think you would like to see." _What do they want with Finnick? _I ask myself frantically, but can't find an answer because I have other matters at stake. First of all, I have to control Annie. She's the only thing keeping me from bolting to the Cornucopia right now, to stop them from doing whatever horrible thing they planned for Finnick, even if my life is the price. I know I am tied to the rebellion in any way possible and must try at least to save Panem from our evil government, but if they want my sweet surrender in exchange for Finnick's life...well, how would I deny it to them?

"Annie, shhh, he's okay, he's fine," I try to soothe her. Her deep brown eyes look hysteric at the thought of her Finnick trapped in here with us.

"I need to see him," she breathes. "I _need _to!"

"You will see him, you will," I lie. "I'll go see what the matter is and then I'll bring him back here to you,"

A flash of hope flickers on Annie's face. "Will you really?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"Yes, yes, I will! Won't I?" I ask the others, needing there support right now more than ever.

"Katniss will bring your Finnick back, Annie," Jameson says slowly, prying Annie off of my arm which she was clinging to with a vice like grip.

"Come child," says Maysilee with open arms. "Let her go."

For once I am grateful to my mother's crazy friend.

At last Annie, with a still frightened look in her doe eyes, let's go of me and stands with the others. She looks so scared, not for her own well being but for Finnick's safety, that I almost break down and tell her the truth. I might not be able to bring Finnick back.

"Please hurry," says Annie in quiet desperation. "He needs to see him!"

I have no idea what that means but no time to fathom it. I turn quickly to run into the middle of the arena when Prim pulls me back.

"Katniss don't go!" she says urgently. "I'm scared you won't come back. Let's face the facts, they want you dead and you're eating out of the palms of their hands."

I look down at Prim and see not the little innocent girl who I've known all my life. Every trace of the sister I trained not to speak ill of the Capitol and to keep her head down, minding her own business, is gone. It's my fault. I forced her and the rest of my loved ones into the heart of the rebellion and none of us can turn back now. My Prim, who I tried so hard to shield from this cruel world, these wretched Hunger Games, has grown up all too soon. To survive in our world you must be cold blooded and thick skinned, a fact that I've tried to cover her from. But now that I've failed she has to work just as hard as the rest of us. I've made her a killer.

"I love you, Prim." I bend down to kiss her forehead, which is marked from debris and flakes of dried blood, her own or others I don't know. "But I have to go."

Prim's bottom lip trembles slowly and a tear passes over it. "See you later?" she asks weekly.

"You can bet on it," I say, trying to sound self assured but really I just sounded weak and little.

"See you later, Katniss," Taint says bravely.

"Yeah," is all Roger can muster.

Jameson just pulls me close and kisses the crown of my head. I find it harder than I expected to let go of this tall, dark man who was a stranger to me a mere year ago. A lot can change in a year, just like a lot can change in the week I have left to live. When we finally pull apart Maysilee gives me a wave of her dainty hand that is enough to tell me that she will be sorry if I die. Not sorry enough to have realized the nature of her plan years ago and cancel it, despite her deceased sister's wishes, but sorry now. And that is enough for me.

"Oh, just go already!" Myra nearly shouts. "They could've killed him a hundred times over by now because of all this sentimental nonsense,"

"Thanks for your support, Myra," I say sarcastically. It's good to see that, in these times of crisis, my wit still makes it through.

Myra smiles at me. "You're not going to die," she says offhandedly. "You're Katniss Everdeen, mockingjay, martyr, savour of Panem and all that crap. So don't forget, we still have a plan to uphold."

At this point in the Games I, and everyone else too apparently, have completely given up on pleasing the cameras. We obviously have no sponsors, no one would want to side on the team of the Capitol's arch nemesis, also known as mine. Talking about the rebellion on live TV is a death sentence, but, then again, my fate has already been decided in President Snow's eyes and it might be what is waiting for me alongside Finnick at the Cornucopia.

After Myra's little speech the others look a bit confused. Of course they didn't hear our conversation in the tree earlier when the freak fire was attacking everyone. I trust she'll fill them in on our master plan of breaking the force field to open the stands and let the spectators wreak havoc while we attempt getting rescued.

I turn away from the others to start my journey to the Cornucopia alone when, again, someone stops me and, again, it is Prim.

"Katniss, maybe you shouldn't go! It could have been a jabberjay impersonating Finnick!"

I am surprised I didn't think of this scenario earlier, but now that it is brought to my attention I know that it's not the case.

"No Prim," I say sadly, because it really is Finnick waiting for me. Even if I could possibly be fooled by the muttation birds I know that Annie would never mistake a recording for her actual lover.

I try to turn again but, "Katniss!"

"See you later, Prim," I try to deadpan, like this isn't a big deal at all and we practice heartfelt goodbyes on a daily basis.

"See you later, Katniss," she chokes back but it is stifled with Myra's shout of "Go, already!"

And I do. With one arm tucked faithfully over my stomach and the other propelling me forward to make up for my injured leg, in the same fashion as earlier today, I start to run to the Cornucopia. I'm not far from it in the first place, even though I can't see it through the dense foliage. I estimate a five to seven minute run.

I have to knives sitting in my belt and a shrewd sort of club in my back pocket. What I really need right now is a bow. The whole time in the arena this year I haven't felt as safe as before and the only reason I can think of is because I don't have my weapon of choice. That and I don't have Peeta to confide in.

I expect other tributes to jump out of the woods when I reach the flat plane and try to finish me off. I am injured and suffering, it would be the perfect time for any unjust person to kill me. However, no one does. Perhaps they are scared to, because whoever kills me will have to feel the wrath of Haymitch, Peeta, and Gale and now even Jameson after I am gone. Prim may even play a part now after her first clean kill today. Or maybe they have just accepted that as soon as I get to the Cornucopia I'm as good as dead. Finnick is bait and I'm the big fish. My only question is who the fisherman will be. Is this important enough for President Snow to enter the arena and finish me off, or will he send one of the lesser Peacekeepers who hate me, like Romulus Thread.

As I jog I gaze at the stands, trying to locate the President's box. I can't find it, it must be concealed by the forest. I guess this will be a surprise after all.

I'm close to the Cornucopia now and the sight I see shocks me. Finnick is chained to the flat side of the golden horn, face up and frantically trying to escape his binds. I know it's no use; he's not going to get out of there if President Snow doesn't want him to.

I run up to him all the same.

"Finnick!" I shout. "Did they hurt you?"

Finnick manages a soft laugh and I notice a whip mark across his face, from his forehead tracing down to his right collar bone. "Not yet," he says menacingly.

I take a step towards him, trying to touch his face and see how deep the damage goes.

"Katniss no!" he shouts, like this is very, very important. "It's a trap! Don't come any closer!"

But it's too late. In that fraction of a step forward I took I have become bound to the ground. Invisible glue has attached my feet to the floor where I stand and more chains that I didn't see before uncoil from behind Finnick. They spurt forwards and entrap my own wrists. Now Finnick and I are chained together.

"Do you know what's going on?" I ask, because I sure don't. Whatever the objective of this is I didn't see it coming.

"No," Finnick grunts, tugging at the chains in hopes of somehow breaking us apart. "After I left that day, I found Annie, just like I said I would!" he says this with a victorious strained smile on his face. "Everything was fine. I thought if we could just, get away from everything, find some quiet place then it could stay that way. But then, the Peacekeepers got us!"

"I know," I tell him urgently. I know it's crude but I have to extract any information he knows about the rebellion from the outside world before...before it's too late. "I saw you! I was in their helicopter. They took Jameson and I earlier that day. But where did they take you?"

"I don't know," he says, with a trace of fear in his voice. "It was a dark place, very dark. I couldn't see anything. They...they questioned me. Wanted to know where our headquarters were –I didn't tell them anything!" he adds, sensing my silent question. "I couldn't have been far from here, though, because after some more torture and some more questioning they just gave up. I heard someone say, "It's no use, he's not gonna tell us anything," and then another person said they would just have to use me as bait. Then everything went black, I think they knocked me out. Next thing I remember is waking up here."

His breathing is heavy from being restrained by the chains and so is mine.

"But you don't know anything about anyone...Peeta, Haymitch, Gale?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"No," he pants. "I'm sorry, Katniss." Then a look of almost possessive power takes control of him. "Annie!" he nearly shouts. "Is she okay? Is she here?"

"Yes and yes," I say. "She's here; she's in my alliance I'm keeping her safe. She misses you though. She said a "he" needs to see you,"

"The baby," Finnick says. "Oh God, Katniss, I can't die today!"

I stare at his face, with more sincerity than I have ever seen in it, and it all makes sense to me. Annie and Finnick swimming away together in District 4, Annie throwing up all the time, holding her stomach so gently when she ran from the fire, the "he" that needed to see Finnick. Annie was pregnant with Finnick's child, Finnick's son they believed.

It's a crazy thing to do, but I smile.

"Oh, Finnick, congratula-"

"No time for that," he says. "Listen. If I die, take care of her okay? Take care of both of them."

"I will. I promise I will."

At that point, Claudius Templesmith decides it's time to join our conversation.

"Now, I know our prisoners and the audience is wondering what will happen next,"

"Pfft, yeah," Finnick and I scoff simultaneously and roll our eyes.

"Blood alone can break the chains that bind you,"

I gasp as a tube slides up out of the ground and a Peacekeeper, Peacekeeper Spool I believe, steps out of it holding a long and sharp, glinting knife inlaid with rubies and sapphires.

"Blood from this knife," the Peacekeeper continues for Claudius. Then he hands the knife to me and stands in between Finnick and I.

"One of us will have to kill...?" I start but falter.

"The other." Finnick finishes for me.

We stare at each other as the Peacekeeper nods.

"One, two, three NOT IT!" Finnick shouts. I gape at him, turning to the infamous not it at a time like this? "Haha, I said not it first which means you have to kill me. I'm not killing you Katniss."

I scowl. "It so doesn't work like that, Finnick. I have been in the arena longer so you have to kill me. I gotta get out of here."

"You can't die; you have a rebellion to uphold!" Finnick protests.

"Well, you can't die because you have an unborn son to uphold," I counter.

"Well, you're more ruthless so you should kill me," Finnick says.

"Excuse me? I am more ruthless than you? I seem to remember you catching people in nets then spearing them in the stomach in your Games,"

"Well I seem to remember you hiding out in trees and dropping tracker jacker nets on people in your Games,"

"In the Quarter Quell you did all the killing and I was just sort of there," I argue.

"You had a baby in your stomach; you couldn't go all psycho murderer!"

I glare at him. "You know full well that there was no baby in my stomach,"

"I'll tell you what, I'll let you kiss me before you kill me," Finnick grins mischievously just for kicks. I'll bet the audience is loving this. Finnick always did have a way with people. An infuriating way that makes me want to strangle him, which I will not do.

"Should I play the unborn baby card again?" I ask menacingly.

"You know," interjects Peacekeeper Spool. "If this is too much of a hard decision for you, we could always make it harder by throwing in some of your other friends and making you kill them too. Like, I don't know, Peeta!"

"You're bluffing," I say but I am frightened that he might not be.

"Am I?" asks the Peacekeeper.

Finnick and I look at each other again.

"What are we going to do?" I ask him in a small voice.

"I would suggest double suicide but you already took that one."

I sigh. "I guess I did."

Even though Finnick and I argued this subject so lightly, it is a serious situation. Neither of us can possibly kill the other. But we're going to have to. Unless...I am struck by a sudden idea. With a firm grip on the knife the Peacekeeper handed me I plunge it into his heart. He falls to the ground, spluttering. Quickly, before any of the blood slides off, I rub the knife all over the chains binding me and Finnick together and the others that are keeping Finnick tied to the Cornucopia. Slowly, as if by magic, the all of the chains evaporate and the ground starts to let go of my feet.

"Yes, it worked!" I shout.

"Yeah," says Finnick to the almost dead Peacekeeper on the ground. "Guess you didn't specify what type of blood would break the chains!"

"Come on Finnick, this is no time for theatrics," I say and we start to run off towards the others. Now that I can, I'm determined to bring Finnick to Annie, just like I promised.

Running back is much harder than running away from. The ground starts to shake. It's literally shaking! And the small river nearby is starting to overflow in a flood. A new fire wall is conjured up and starts chasing us and what I can only describe as asteroids start raining down and we have to dodge them. This can only mean one thing. The Gamemakers are using all the ammo they have. We defied them and they are trying everything to get us back.

My stomach wound is breaking open and fresh blood is starting to stain my bandages.

"I know I'm going to regret asking you this!" I shout at Finnick as we leap over a lava pit that is materializing underneath us. "But, carry me?" I ask.

"Any time," is Finnick's strained answer as he scoops me up and starts running even faster from a herd of animals that look part rhinoceros part giant reptile which have appeared from behind the forest trees. "Which way are we going?" he asks.

"Just to the edge of the woods there. That's where Annie is if they haven't moved already!"

We race there to find that they haven't moved. Jameson is pacing around trying to think of what to do, Maysilee is gazing at the scene as if she finds it quite interesting, Prim, Roger, and Taint are standing in a little group looking frightened and Annie is rocking back and forth at the base of a tree. Then she sees Finnick.

They run together and stare at each other's faces as if they can't quite believe this is real. They don't kiss or anything, just stare at each other so sweetly that I feel like an intruder of a special moment just watching.

"I missed you so much Annie!" Finnick says fiercely, finally placing a shaky kiss on Annie's forehead.

"We missed you too," she murmurs her reply. "Both of us."

Finnick gently lifts up her top to caress her baby belly. It's not big at all, I don't think she can be more than six weeks pregnant, but what do I know about the subject?

"Yeah, I hate to ruin the moment you guys but we kind of have to get out of here," is Myra's always tactful remark. "On account of that giant snake thing that just erupted from behind that tree,"

I look to where she's pointing and see that she's correct. A giant snake thing did just erupt from behind that tree. It's a monstrous eighty feet high cobra with fangs that I'm sure are venomous.

We do what any sensible person would do. We run.

With Annie occupying Finnick's arms now Jameson picks me up and I can't even muster the strength to protest. A lot of physical exertion happened today and my stomach is not happy about it. Maysilee is running beside our two pairs and Prim, Roger, and Taint are in their usual trio.

At first we are blinding running away from all of the dangers popping out everywhere. But more and more are coming, encircling us, almost like they know where we are. Of course we have the usual trackers in our arms, but those just give the Gamemakers the general coordinates of our locations. This is like they know exactly where we are and are tracking our every move.

The snake is still following us. I'm flinging some rocks I've collected at it to keep it back, I could really use my bow and arrows right now. The next event seems to happen in slow motion. The snake rears its ugly head and then swoops down on us. It's poisonous fangs are exposed. Finnick and Annie are lagging behind. I can almost guess what's coming before it happens. The snake opens its mouth and the tip of one poisonous fang pierces Finnick's shoulder. His scream of agony is loud enough for all to hear as he falls. Annie is thrown forwards out of his arms, but has enough to sense to tuck and roll and is not hurt until she sees her poor Finnick sprawled upon the ground, writhing in pain, but alive.

"What do we do?" Prim asks in a panic. But Annie already has her own answer.

She has slung Finnick over one of her skinny shoulders. "We need to get him out of here," she says slowly. "If we don't, the monster will get him again."

We all agree. The monsters will get him again and they'll get the rest of us too. I wish I knew why they are so attracted to us, like we are the magnet for destruction.

"Katniss, the knife!" Jameson yells bluntly.

He reaches down and takes the bejewelled weapon from the Peacekeeper away from me. He then proceeds to throw it far, far away.

"Of course!" I clap a hand over my forehead. "It must be a tracking device for the muttations and the disasters. In case Finnick and I found a way around killing each other. I finish my sentence over a canon firing. Someone must have found the knife Jameson threw.

"We have to get away!" Annie is shouting. "The monsters!"

I don't know how long it will last, but for now we're safe. With the tracking device at the other side of the arena, all the dangers will be concentrated over there.

"We'll just have to wait it out here," I say with a look at Myra. Soon we'll have to break the force field and open the stands. If only Peeta and the others would hurry up and get here already.

Everyone was listening to me except for one. Annie is bent over Finnick, her tears marking up his face and mingling with his own. He is smiling and trying to console her, "It's okay, Ann, I'm going to be just fine."

I have to stifle my own tears now, because that snake's fangs were venomous. I don't know if he will be just fine.

**So there it is. Please review! Sorry for going super sci-fi on you if that's not your thing. Hehe I like rhinoceros half breeds, weather fiascos and giant venomous snakes...except not the ones who hurt my Finnick Odair D:**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey guys this is the last chapter I can post until I come home from vacation on August 14****th****. I'm leaving tomorrow. We're going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. I'm so excited because I'm a huge HP nerd, as well as THG. Again, the story will be finished before the 24****th****. I'm in the home stretch now**

Chapter 24

We are silent and solemn as evening arrives and envelopes us in foreboding folds of darkness. This day has been a long one; it's hard to believe it started with our little party trooping through the jungle trying to find a new campsite. Then the crazy fire arrived and lead to my finding Myra, and Prim killing Sphinx. It all feels a lifetime ago; the Finnick situation has completely eclipsed all the prior seriousness in my mind.

Everybody, even Myra, has enough tact to leave Finnick and Annie alone. They have sat undisturbed under a nearby tree unaccompanied by any prying eyes ever since Maysilee finished her examination of the puncture mark on Finnick's shoulder. She quietly told us, and him, that it didn't look good but miraculous recoveries have been made in the past. Obviously, no one has past experience with the type of snake that maimed Finnick. It's probably a brand new muttation that no one's seen before. Annie was purposely left out of the conversation. We all agreed that telling her Finnick's condition was seriously life threatening would do no good and just send her even more over the edge than she already was.

Still, she can tell something's up as she leans over Finnick whispering things and wiping away a few subtle tears. He is trying not to let her know how much agony he's in but his face betrays him with an anguished expression.

The rest of us are gathered around a small fire that Jameson and I conjured up. No one is really speaking. We are all exhausted. When the anthem starts playing we all look faithfully into the sky to see the recap of who died on this long day.

A lot of people did. The hardest part is seeing Varnish's picture projected on top of the silver stars. Taint stifles another sob and I see Jameson pat him on the back in a brotherly way out of the corner of my eye. I feel great remorse for the grieving Taint and the loss of Varnish, but even greater remorse for the empty numb feeling I've had inside about it. It's like I've seen so much death that it doesn't even phase me anymore.

There's only four tributes left in the arena who aren't in our alliance. It's hard to believe that the Games only started a couple of days ago and we have already dwindled down our foes so immensely. Having this few enemies doesn't feel good like some people would expect. When I came into the arena I only planned on killing the tributes who tried to kill Prim outright. That failed. Too many have died who didn't have to. I'm sure most of them were innocent enough before they were thrown into these Games. I was supposed to be holding out for the rescue mission, not legitimately trying to become a double victor.

Speaking of the rescue mission I'm supposed to be expecting, I really thought that it should be happening pretty soon. I don't know how much longer we can last out here without the Gamemakers forcing us in some insane way to start picking off each other. Looking at my allies, I know that I can't harm, not just Prim but, any one of them. We've became a family out here.

The faces of the dead stopped gracing the sky a couple minutes ago but we all still sit around our makeshift fire. We aren't even trying to stay hidden from our enemies anymore, and the other tributes seem too scared to approach us anyway.

Just then, Claudius Templesmith's voice fills my ears for the second time today.

"Hello tributes," he says slowly. "As most of you know, Finnick Odair joined you in the arena earlier today. He has violated the Capitol in so many ways that we do not think it is just to let him keep living in our nation of Panem. Any tribute who successfully eliminates Finnick Odair will be immediately withdrawn from the arena and the competition."

Stone cold silence meets Claudius's offer from our campsite but, in the distance, I hear a small yippee. Someone is celebrating. This is bad. Someone is planning on trading Finnick's life for their safety. If this was the 74th Games I would've killed any tribute to escape the arena, or better yet to let Peeta escape. Even in the Quarter Quell I probably would have done it. But not now. Not after I have realized the error in my ways of killing the innocent. These Games can change anyone into a bloodthirsty tyrant. Even though Finnick's not at all innocent in every sense of the word, he's a good man and I'm not letting him die on my watch.

"Here's how it's going to work," I growl to the others. "We'll do the watches as usual and if any takers come for Claudius's offer we stop them."

The others nod. I'm sure if Annie completely understood the bargain of safety for Finnick's life but she can still tell he's in danger and shields him from everything. Even though Annie isn't as sane as the rest of us, I can tell that she won't let anything hurt Finnick. Leaving him with her at all times is probably the best thing we can do.

I take first watch with Prim sitting on my lap and gaze into the dark forest wall we're facing. If there's one good thing I can say about the Games it's that they've made my night vision considerably better. There's nothing like impending death coming at you from all angles to sharpen your senses.

We're not even halfway through our watch when I catch sight of a possible intruder. I see leaves rustling and hear twigs breaking a little forward and to the left of us. Without further investigation, I lift Prim off of me and run in the disturbance's direction. I crawl stealthily towards them and then pounce, grabbing their hair and holding them up with a knife in the other hand.

"Do you want to tell me how you thought you could kill Finnick without being stopped by me first?" I whisper menacingly to them.

They don't say anything so I stare at them. I realize that it's a girl and she looks about eighteen, my age. She still doesn't speak but is quivering from her toes to the top of her curly haired head. The volume of her dark tresses adds a couple inches of height to her otherwise petite frame. I almost feel bad when I look at her frightened expression. Then I remember she came here to save her own skin in exchange for another human being's life.

I shake her again. "I'm not letting you kill him," I say.

Then something unexpected happens. She apologizes.

"I'm sorry," she sobs and I am so caught off guard that I let go of her. Then she flings herself down on my lap and starts crying her eyes out. "I just wanted to go home _so badly!_"

Even I am surprised when I feel a few tears wet my eyes, because I do sympathize with this girl. "Me too," I say softly. "But I have no home."

This is bad. I'm showing vulnerability to this stranger who was fully willing to kill one of my strongest allies. She could be using this as a tactic, like Johanna did in her Games. Pretend to be a weakling then jump up and start murdering people when they least expect it.

I continue talking to her. "I can't let you kill Finnick," I say flatly, still with an angry glint in my eyes I am sure.

"Please don't kill me!" she gasps. "Please don't!"

I imagine how the scene would look from above. I am holding this girl with a knife in my hand, and about to kill her. Really, how much chance does she have? I can see an axe in her belt but I'm not going to let her reach it, I have both of her hands pinned behind her back. I could eliminate her easily, and that's not just my ego talking.

"I'm not going to kill you," I decide aloud.

Footsteps are creeping up behind us and a rock someone kicked forward rolls up next to me in an ominous fashion.

"You aren't?" asks Myra. "You realize she was trying to kill one of us right? We can't just let her off the hook. She can't just get a free pass of the chopping block." Myra takes the axe from the new girl's belt and fumbles with it in almost loving fingers. "No pun intended..."

The new girl is looking from me to Myra and still trembling.

"We can't just kill her," I say finally.

"Why not?" she asks as she peers loathingly at the intruder.

Through this whole ordeal, Prim has been watching frightfully on the bench near the fire. My departure woke her up. She races up to Myra and I.

"You can't kill her!" she cries importantly.

Myra slowly lowers her weapon and turns towards my sister.

"Prim, you don't understand. She's trying to kill Finnick."

"Well if you kill her then you're just as bad," Prim says stoutly. She is probably the only one who can change Myra's mind. They really became close on the helicopter before I arrived, or so she tells me. Myra cared for her when I couldn't. I really owe her for that but I'm not paying my debt by letting her kill someone who can be easily spared.

"You killed someone yesterday Prim," Myra counters.

Prim's self assured expression falls and I can feel the water works coming on.

"Myra!" I shout. "Stop talking about that. Prim was just saving herself. She would have died if she didn't get rid of Sphinx. And he was a bad person. We gave him lots of chances."

Myra goes for her signature eye rolling during my speech, but then looks sincerely at Prim. "I'm sorry, your sister's right." she says quietly. "We won't kill this girl okay?" she asks with disgust.

Prim nods weakly.

"You," Myra continues to the girl who still cowers on the ground. "Got a name?" She looks at the girl expectantly.

"It's Jessi," she answers with shallow breathing.

The name rings a bell for me and I remember that she is the tribute from the training center that was very handy with axes. She seems very meek and mild. She must be really good if she's lasted this long.

"Well Jessi, what should we do with you now that Katniss is, sadly, not going to let me kill you,"

Jessi takes in sharp breath and gives me a brief thankful look. "I'm really sorry," she says to Myra. "I probably couldn't have killed him if I even got the chance to try. I just wanted to go home. Maybe you could let me go back to my alliance. I promise I'll never come back here again! Please!"

Myra's lip curls into a sarcastic smile. "Sure, I let you go and then you will come back with the other three and finish us all off. I don't think so."

I watch the scene from a few steps away with Prim cowering under my arm.

"We could just keep her here, Myra," I say at a low volume. "We could keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't try anything. You _won't _try anything, will you?" I add to the prisoner.

"No!" shouts Jessi. "I won't do anything!"

"Fine," snarls Myra. "But I'm not watching her,"

"That's okay, I will," I volunteer.

"Prim, go sleep with Myra," Prim looks as if she might argue but I won't have that. "Go." I say firmly.

Shockingly, no one but Prim, Myra and I were awake for the disturbance. Now I am alone outside, except for Jessi, and it's the perfect time to put my plan into action. I know I told Myra that we would keep Jessi here so she couldn't go rally her alliance into killing us, but that's not my intentions at all. If Jessi goes back to her so called alliance they are going to steer clear of us, unless I give them another idea. The odds are not at all in their favour. They have four people if you add Jessi and we have nine. We would obliterate them in a fight. No, I have other plans for them.

With the pretence of bending down to our food supplies to get something for to eat, I pull Jessi down to and whisper my idea to her.

"Jessi, we're breaking out of the arena. You have to go back to your alliance and tell them. If all goes according to plan, and it won't, Myra and I are going to break the force field and a helicopter full of my friends is going to arrive and bust us out. But when we break the barrier I can bet that swarms of Peacekeepers are going to barge in and try to stop us. We need your four on board to fight them. Can you do that?"

After my long spiel she looks at me with an expression of intrigue, shock, and pure terror. I'm pretty sure my expression was very close to that when I formulated the plan. Jessi nods once so I know that she agrees with the plan and is going to do what I ask.

"Okay," I continue. "So I'm going to pretend to fall asleep and then you run away. Got it?"

She nods again. Then we go and sit down on the benches before the fire. I keep a wary eye on her for effect but wait a couple hours before I feign sleeping. It really isn't that hard for I am tired. After my eyes close I can tell that Jessi waits a little while before she runs off. Good. It'll hopefully look more real that way. I'm not sure when my fake sleep turns into real sleep, but the next thing I know Jameson is shaking me awake.

"Katniss, it's my watch," he says gently. "Go sleep in the tent with the others." He nudges me up and I murmur a thanks then wander into the shelter. I'm honestly too tired to recount the Jessi story to him and I don't know why I should have to. I'll tell everyone that she ran away tomorrow. I can't tell them my actual plan because if I talk about it again the cameras could pick it up. That's the same reason that Myra and I are the only ones who can know about the force field plan.

I'm still not positive on how that's going to work. We have the special wire and we do have a water pond that can conduct energy. We're going to have to place one end of the wire in the pond and throw the other end at the force field. Hopefully Myra has some ideas, because without Beetee here she, his niece, is the closest thing we have.

The next morning when I'm woken up it's definitely not in the gentle fashion that Jameson used last night. It's Myra that I first see when I open my lids and she is fuming.

"How could you let Jessi escape?" she asks incredulously. "Now we're going to be under siege!"

I shimmy out of my sleeping bag and look at her with a questioning expression. "Don't be dramatic," I say. "She's not coming back any time soon after what you said to her,"

At this Myra just makes an indignant sound and leaves me alone. I'm guessing she or Prim told everyone what happened last night, because no one asks me questions about it. I go to check on Finnick and Annie and he's more or less the same as yesterday.

"So someone tried to kill me last night?" he asks sceptically. At his words Annie looks fierce. She isn't going to let anyone kill Finnick.

"Yeah," I try to say nonchalantly. "But I took care of her."

"Well that's not how Myra tells it," he says.

"Myra exaggerates everything," I grumble.

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?" Finnick asks maddeningly.

"I'm just so tired of this, these Games."

"I know, to think this is my _third _time!" Finnick says.

"And you just got here," I say. "I've probably logged more hours in the arena then anyone ever,"

"Just don't let your head get too big or your crown won't fit. You're getting an ego and that won't look good on camera," Finnick says seriously.

Finnick Odair telling me I have a big ego? I wander away from him and Annie. That guy really angers me sometimes.

The day passes uneventfully at first. We are running out of food to eat so I go our hunting. It's much harder with a knife instead of a bow because you have to physically hold the animal before you can kill it, but it clears my head all the same. The hunting gives me a sense of realism that is hard to find in the Hunger Games. We're all eating some squirrel meat that I harvested and Prim cooked when I see something that makes my heart stop. I won't be surprised if I pass out right here on the spot.

There above me the blue sky is interrupted for just a moment by a duller and more realistic color. A tiny shock runs ripples over the wall of the force field and just as quickly as it came, all of the evidence disappears and the fake blue smiles down on us once again.

The others are here in a helicopter just on the other side of the invisible barrier, I'm sure of it. And that means that I have to break the force field so they can get in here. And that means that the final battle I've been anticipating could commence today. Then, either way if I live or if I die, this will all be over.

I stand up abruptly and address the others. "It's time." I say in a finalized voice. Everyone looks startled; they don't know what I am talking about. But Myra nods a slow nod.

"I'll get the wire," she says briskly and starts rummaging in her pockets, finally extracting the silver coil that could just save our lives.

The idea clicks in Jameson's mind first and almost instantaneously. "It's time for the rescue?" he questions slowly. I give him a look that says yes.

"Katniss what are you going to do?" asks Prim worriedly.

I don't answer, instead I say, "Stay with Jameson Prim. Keep her safe." Jameson collects Prim and also the boys. Maysilee stands with them too and I know that if he can, he'll vie for her safety as well.

I can trust that he will even though I don't pause for his answer. None of us are even trying to conceal our voices by now. The Capitol knows that we're breaking out of this arena; the whole of Panem knows that we're going to try. I cast my gaze on Finnick and Annie and the male half can tell what I am thinking.

"We'll stick together," he says. "I can protect her."

I sigh. "On any other day I would agree, but you're hurt Finnick. You two are sticking with me."

For once Finnick doesn't argue. He gets up gingerly. Walking isn't hard for him because his injury is fully contained in the upper part of his body. My leg is almost healed now so I can walk fine, but my stomach is going to protest. I'll just have to ignore it until we have access to a hospital. I don't want to think about the possibility of us losing the fight that's bound to come against the Capitol. By the time my stomach is healed the rebellion will be far behind us.

Annie can also tell the seriousness of the situation for she just listens to my command and stands with me, asking no questions and looking saner than I've ever seen her.

"Okay just wait for us here for one second," I tell them,

Myra and I race to the little spring of water that's near our camp. Her nimble fingers wind one end of the water around a heavy rock and she places it in the deep end. Then we're just left with the spool and the other end of our ticket to getting out of here.

"Now what?" I ask somewhat hysterically. If we don't hurry the Gamemakers are going to find an easy way to obliterate us now before we can cause any damage.

"I don't know," she frets looking the least confidant I've ever seen her. "Here!" she pulls a knife out of her belt and winds the wire around the fat handle. "If we throw this hard enough it can puncture the force field and it will break, all according to plan."

She looks at me expectantly like she wants me to okay the plan. "Well, do it!" I nearly shout. She almost does. "Wait," I say.

"What now?" she asks annoyed.

"We should get out of this forest; the flat planes are a better place to throw it."

We quickly run out of the forest and Myra doesn't delay in throwing the knife skywards. As soon as it's airborne I duck and cover my head. A knife in my skull wouldn't really help my situation right now. The knife is soaring high above now. I uncurl to watch what happens. It hits the field and creates the same ripple effect I saw earlier. Then the sky is the real blue color and I think we succeeded. I even see the helicopter! Something drops from it, but then everything beyond the arena evaporates. The force field is back in place, I can tell because the fake blue color returns.

Still, the object someone dropped is falling through the air a few feet away. I run under it and stretch out my hand to grab it. It's a bow attached to a sheath of arrows. With huge eyes, I turn it over in my hands. This is exactly what I need. I have a sudden idea.

Objects have fallen from the skies in other arenas before and they've always been from sponsors. This one isn't per se. It's from my own personal sponsor. This bow is from the one guy who can communicate everything to me with the dropping of just one gift.

"Thanks Haymitch!" I shout to the heavens. I hope he hears me.

A little ways away from me Myra is chasing another falling object. She catches it too and I see that it's the very knife we threw into the air, with the wire still coiled around one end. She simultaneously has the same idea as me.

We run together and she quickly uncoils it from the knife which she then drops pell-mell onto the ground beneath us. At the same time I shakily withdraw one of my arrows from the new sheath. Myra passes me the wire and I wind it around the back end of one of the arrows.

"Hurry up!" Myra shouts and for a minute I don't know why. Then I do. The tubes that usually contain tributes are rising but more contestants aren't inside them. Each is filled with a man or woman in a white suit. The Peacekeepers are coming and they're not going to offer us snacks. They are going to kill us.

Finally I've arranged the wire, bow and arrow perfectly. The Peacekeepers are almost level to the ground now. They will swarm us like we are the large golden Cornucopia that's not far away.

I pull back my arrow. This needs to be my best shot. We don't have time to try again. This is a onetime thing. I have to hit the force field at the perfect angle or it won't work. This has to be my best shot.

I let go. The arrow soars in silence just as precisely as I hoped at the point I plotted perfectly in my head. It's just where I saw the flash and the ripple effect earlier today. No one speaks and if something's making noise I don't hear it. So much depends on this moment, on this shot. The arrow makes contact with it.

Sounds erupt in my eardrums. A huge explosive one comes first. It's like dynamite exploding in one of the mines back home. Back when there was a District 12. There are manic cheers from behind where my allies watched the feat. Screams of rage come from the Peacekeepers as they just start to come out of their tubes. Then there are more explosions. Some of the Peacekeepers left their platforms easy. If a tribute ever does that their plate explodes. I guess they didn't remember that.

I smile in spite of everything. It seems like karma is finally on our side. Sparks shower down in all directions as the force field evaporates, for real this time. I see Jessi and her alliance running towards the site of the action in the distance, just like she promised they would. Prim, Roger and Taint are throwing rocks at the glass that is now the only barrier between us and the audience. The stands are shattering and people are spilling into the arena. I see Cinna among them but can't run to him now because the Peacekeepers are advancing. Even President Snow is shocked, he stays near the stands yelling at the other Peacekeepers who were in his box. Boys and girls wearing Avox uniforms are running away from their masters. A healed Beetee runs from his box to embrace Myra.

But I'm not looking at any of that. The helicopter is descending fast and a rope ladder is falling from it. My people are in there. Gale. Haymitch. Madge. Peeta. Who knows who else? Peeta. My people are hear now and it's time to even the score against the Capitol. Let the Games begin.

**WHOO HOO! Reviews please.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Here's the chapter guys. I know it's late but it's a long one. I was really busy when I got home from vacay (which was awesome BTW. Butterbeer is so great you should all try it, it felt like I was really in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade!) so I couldn't post the chapter right when I got back. But remember, it will all be finished BEFORE the 24****th****. After this chapter there is only two more and the epilogue.**

Chapter 25

"Catnip!" is the first sound that reaches my ears after the helicopter lands on the dry ground where Myra and I still stand. After all the things I've been through since I stepped into the arena, not this time, but the very first time when I was just sixteen, hearing that voice is exactly what I need. It reminds me that life wasn't always this insane. It was always a struggle, and always sufferable especially after my father died, but even after that it wasn't as terrible as participating in the Hunger Games for three consecutive years.

The voice helps me realize that there was a simpler time. A time where we lazed by the river while on break from hunting in the woods. When we provided meals to sustain our families, split our profits down the middle, and were always there for each other. It was a time before fake or real romances, complicated notions, or girls next door who love strawberries. A time of a plain and trusting friendship that was truer than any other I have ever known. And, then and there, I decide that I want that friendship back.

My reminisces and revelations only last for the fraction of a second of shock that I feel while fully figuring out that my friends _have _come here to rescue me. After that one moment I remember the Peacekeepers, who are advancing on me from all sides. Without thinking, I fire some arrows at the closest few and, without bothering to check the damage, I race forward to cover the distance in an instant between me and the rescuers.

The person who called my name stands in front of everyone else. I can tell that he has been through battles because one of his eyes is bruised and dark and there are scrapes on his neck. And that's just his face. His left arm is in a cast from wrist to elbow as well.

I teeter on the brink of some invisible line trying to force myself to believe that this is all really real and they are all legitimately here and aren't some figment of my imagination as I'm desperate to escape the arena. They are really here though. There's no question when Gale opens his arms and I launch myself into them.

"Gale!" I finally respond to his call. I press myself into him and suck up his warmth.

Suddenly he pulls away from me a little and holds me at arm's length to look me over.

"You're hurt," he implores, as if I wasn't already aware.

Peacekeepers and tributes alike are battling in every direction I look. The only reason why Gale and I can sustain a normal conversation is the other rescuers and Myra who are throwing knives and shooting arrows every which way at random.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said on the phone," Gale says quickly. "You don't always think about yourself." He stares into my eyes sincerely but I look down.

"I do sometimes," I say. And it's true.

Gale stoops over and tilts my chin up so I have to look into his grey eyes.

"Look, Katniss, I love you." he says slowly.

_Here we go, _I think dejectedly. But for some reason I say, "I love you, too. You know that." I don't know why I say it but it is true. I _do _love Gale. It's just that I also love Peeta. I feel like Gale and I are on the verge of something, and whatever it is we better get there soon so I can join the fight.

The other rescuers are hovering behind our display. I can see Peeta and Madge standing together with looks of understanding on their faces like they're thinking _we knew this would happen_. Some part of me longs to run over to Peeta just to make sure he's really there and to let him comfort me but I know I can't. I have to work through this Gale blockage before I do anything else.

We stare at each other for a few more seconds that feel more like days and then, simultaneously, we both blurt out a sentence.

"I love Peeta!" is mine while Gale says "I love Madge!" We look at each other and grin. I hold out a hand for him to shake.

"Just friends again?" I ask with a smile.

"Friends," he agrees and wrings my hand up and down once.

"Best friends." I correct.

Just then, Gale leans in to me and kisses me right on the lips! I pull away almost immediately and slap him.

"Gale!" I protest. "Do you remember two seconds ago when we agreed to go back to being just friends?"

Seriously, Gale really confuses me sometimes. But even the kiss was not as confusing as the circumstances. I don't think we have much more time to chat before a Peacekeeper succeeds in reaching us.

"I know we said that, Katniss," Gale tells me. "But don't you think we should try to kiss one more time just to make sure?"

I roll my eyes at him. "This is ridiculous, Gale." I deadpan, but then lean in and I kiss him this time. I figure that this is Gale and he's not going to give up. After this we can finally fight the battle and I won't ever have a doubt about choosing Peeta. So I part my lips and softly place them on Gale's. He gently tugs at my bottom lip with both of his own and then pulls away.

I stare at him. "There. Feel anything?" I look down.

Gale looks confused as he ponders this. "No," he says uncertainly. "Did you?"

I look up at him. "No."

Then I am so happy that things aren't completely confusing anymore between us that I'm about to jump up to hug Gale again, but I feel a tap on my shoulder. I whirl around, with an arrow ready, to see who it is but it's just another familiar, yet bewildered, face.

"Katniss, there is no time for you to have chatty conversations with everyone!" Haymitch says exasperatedly. "The only reason you should be getting your affairs in order is if you are expecting to die. And the only reason you will die is if you're not on your guard. So get on it, because I'm not having another tribute of mine die! I was a mentor for twenty four years and none of my kids ever won. You are going to win."

I look up at Haymitch and nod stiffly. He's not the most caring mentor you could ask for but he tells it like it is. And he's Haymitch. I care about him.

"We're all winning." I state clearly, looking at the people who surround me. My troops have rallied over here and made a human wall, shielding us from the opposing forces. Jameson rushed over as soon as he saw Johanna exit the copter and he brought Prim and the others with him. "The Capitol has ruled over the Districts for too long. Today, we're going to shatter that fact."

The others have mixed emotions on their faces. Some, like Prim, look absolutely terrified at the prospect of shattering anything. Others, like Johanna, look excited. Some, like Taint and Roger, look bewildered at why they are even being included in this mission. There are so many people here who have somehow influenced the rebellion. Haymitch, Madge, Gale, Prim, Maysilee, Myra, Johanna, Jameson, Taint, Roger, Beetee even. And Peeta.

Maysilee and Haymitch silently stare at each other with expressions of mingled understanding, betrayal and longing. I know that there is a lot of history behind those expressions, there is even a lot that I personally should know but I don't. My fate was decided by those people. Maysilee decided I was the only girl in District 12 that could win the Hunger Games, and so she forced me into them. Haymitch had a different kind of rebellion in mind and kept me alive. But I can't pay attention to them now because Peeta is speaking.

"Katniss is right," he says quietly. "The reason the Capitol can control our every move is that they have kept us separated for all these years. Alone, each district is powerless. But together, we can stand strong. That was proven in the Quarter Quell. But sometimes strength isn't enough. Even our best fighters can be wounded."

His eyes stay rested on me for a lingering second. I know that my bandages are bloody. My injuries do hurt, but I will not stop trying. I reach out to take Peeta's hand. He squeezes it gratefully and continues speaking in a low undertone to Haymitch only.

"Do you have the medicine?" he asks softly. I can only assume that "the medicine" is for me and my stomach wound. I remember Jameson and Maysilee's conversation that one day after I was injured. They said I only have a week to live then, but I heard them talking later that it may be less than that. The Hunger Games is not a place to recover easily. I could go any day now if I don't get "the medicine" but that is the least of my troubles right now. The battle still rages on everywhere and I long to join it. I can't let people I love get hurt and people I love are out fighting right now, instead of me.

"No," Haymitch replies. "I told you we didn't have any in stock."

Peeta's eyes flash hard for a second but, if he has a temper, he forces it to stay in check. I can tell he's looking for words to say or a way to keep me alive. Right now I'd be happier if he worried for his safety and not mine.

"Peeta, I'm fine," I say softly, looking up into his blue eyes. "Really, I am."

Peeta looks down at me with a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I don't buy it, Katniss," he laughs. "You're still a really bad liar."

Then I let him pull me into a tight embrace. I press my face into his chest and wish with everything I have that I could just stay there forever and we could forget the battle entirely. But I can't do that. I'm Katniss Everdeen. I'm a realist and a fighter. I'm a survivalist. I pull away from Peeta, only keeping his hand, and turn to address the group. However, before I can speak, someone else does.

"Honestly, you guys just stop talking!" Myra shouts. "This is a battle if you haven't noticed and battles mean fighting, We have to start fighting! I wanna see some carnage!"

We all stare at her as Johanna smiles.

"You know," she says wryly to Jameson. "I think I like her. Can we adopt her?"

Myra looks confusedly at her. "You know, I have an uncle right?" she asks. Beetee nods.

"ENOUGH!" shouts Haymitch and all of us are startled. "We can't hold off the Peacekeepers for much longer we need to do something."

"Bonnie and I will take crowd control. We can talk the spectators into being on our side so we can have more fighters," Madge puts in from where she is hugging her mom. When I look over at her I see that, indeed, Bonnie, the girl I met in the woods, is here. I remember back at the Underground how she said she wanted to be a soldier. I guess she got her wish. I have an uneasy feeling about this.

"Well that's all fine and good but we need someone to take Prim and the others away from here in the helicopter. I can't let the Peacekeepers get her," I say.

"I'll do it," Maysilee says. "I could fly a helicopter pretty well back in the good old days."

Now normally I would think the sentence "I _could _fly a helicopter," to be a bit unsettling, especially when it was my sister who was going to ride in it, but today I will just be happy if I can force her away from the battle field.

"Roger, Taint, you should go with them," I address the boys. "I really appreciate how much you've helped us so far."

They nod sheepishly and go to stand with Maysilee. It's a good thing they didn't put up much of a hassle because someone else definitely is.

"Myra, we're going with them." Beetee says soundly. "I don't think I can hold up in a fight anymore, and I'm not taking any chances with you."

Myra puts up a steady fight with a lot of reasons why she should get to stay but eventually Jameson forces her into the copter with the others. I suspect the only reason she didn't scream, curse, or even start hitting us to get her way is because of the severity of this situation.

"All right, your turn Prim," I say to my sister. I will be much more at peace when I know she is out of harm's way.

"No." she says stoutly. "I want to fight too."

This cannot be happening. Prim can't _want_ to fight. This is Prim. She wouldn't hurt a fly. I can't allow this, I just can't. If Prim gets hurt or...anything else, I'll have it on my conscious forever.

"No way, Prim." I say. "Not today, not ever."

"You can't boss me around, Katniss," she counters and it puts an incredulous look on my face. Then she turns to Peeta and says, "Peeta, tell Katniss to let me fight." He shakes his blonde head immediately.

"No, Prim. You know none of us could stand it if you got hurt. Not me, not Katniss, not anybody."

"Well maybe I can't stand it if any of you get hurt!" she shouts and the tears start falling.

"Shh, Prim, we won't get hurt, we're pros at this staying alive thing by now," I try to soothe her, but it doesn't work. As soon as I try to touch her arm she turns away from me and won't even meet my gaze. Only Gale can knock some sense into her.

"Don't worry Prim," he consoles after kissing her forehead. "It'll all work out fine in the end. Maybe later Maysilee can even fly you back here to see how we're doing."

Maysilee nods and says "Yes," while I am mouthing a big "NO" to Gale over Prim's tiny head. But of course Gale does not listen to me. People rarely do.

"How does that sound Primster?" he says to her.

Prim wipes her nose on her sleeve and looks up at him, "Sounds good." she says quietly. "But you only give Katniss a nickname."

"Well," says Gale down to her. "Now you have one too."

I watch Prim retreat into the helicopter and smile at Gale despite his inadequate promise to Prim. Madge takes Gale's hand and squeezes it. I think she knows he's going to make a good dad. Maysilee obviously wants Madge to come with her in the helicopter, safely away from the battle. But Madge politely declined. It didn't take much for Maysilee to agree with her. Maybe she sees some of the Mockingjay Society in us. Because these are the new dark days, and we are the young ones now.

"Annie, go with them," Finnick says quietly to Annie. He's obviously deduced that that is the safest option. "I'm going to fight. We need some man power around here."

Johanna, Jameson, and Peeta all promptly decide that they will fight too. Myra wanted to but Uncle Beetee flatly refused. All the fighters go out to, uh, fight but I am reluctant to let Peeta go.

"I have to do something, Katniss," he says to me softly but firmly. I can tell it will take a lot to overturn his decision.

"But you don't have to do this," I plead. "There are plenty of other things you can do,"

"Like what?" he asks blatantly.

"Like..." I try hurriedly to invent something that isn't dangerous.

"Exactly," Peeta says during my silent struggle.

"Then I'm fighting too!" I counter.

"No you're not!" Haymitch decides. "Not until you get some medicine.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET SOME IF THERE ISN'T ANY?" I yell at him. Haymitch looks at me in such a calm way that I am nearly infuriated. Then he sighs and looks like he's about to say something. What that something is I never find out.

A shadow overtakes our spot on the playing field. I look up and see that it's yet another helicopter is here before ours has even taken off yet. All the innocents are waiting for our helicopter to take off, except Maysilee still hasn't boarded it. She stands beside Haymitch looking up at the new helicopter. But is the new helicopter on our side or theirs? Could they have sent in for more Peacekeepers? For back up, even though we are having a tough enough time staying away from the ones who are here already. I quickly look at Haymitch.

"Is that more troops coming?" I ask weakly.

He shakes his head, "Ours was the only copter that worked. But there is a slim possibility that they fixed the others back in the Underground."

"Yeah, well," I say grimly. "I don't usually have faith in slim possibilities."

All of us left on the ground raise our weapons and get in position to strike as soon as the possibly enemies touchdown. I am so stressed about everything that I almost don't notice the fleets of more Peacekeepers running up behind us. Why would they be running over here if more backup was going to arrive? Certainly they wouldn't just greet the newcomers. The people in the helicopter must be on our side. But who?

The others have also come to my same conclusion. We're slowly lowering our weapons and straining our eyes to see who will emerge from the copter and how they can help us in the fight.

Aren't I surprised when the first person out is my mother.

"Mom," I gasp at her.

"Katniss," she replies lovingly. "Katniss I brought your medicine." she shakes a green bag that must hold the medicine I need to stay alive after the week is up.

After hugging me shortly she walks over to the spot where Haymitch and Maysilee still stand. They just stand there in a sort of triangle for a long moment. I suppose they are thinking about all the plans for rebellion they made back before I was even born. All the fights they had. All the letters Madylin had planned for them. My mother puts a hand on each of their shoulders and Maysilee and Haymitch grasp each other's hands for a second.

"We're going to do this for Madylin," Maysilee says. "I know her methods were wrong, and I'm sorry I ruined life for your daughter Pricilla,"

I look down at my feet. As the Mockingjay Society's members are talking to one another, more people are getting out of the helicopter. I suppose my mother brought them to fight but I only recognize one. Hazelle, Gale's mother. He is standing with her and quietly asking if Rory, Vick, and Posy are alright. She is quietly telling him that, yes, they are while she looks from Gale to me to Madge a little confusedly.

"I can never forgive you for that, Maysilee," my mom says with a glance backwards at me. "But I am hoping we can bring down the Capitol for killing your sister. She was my friend,"

I remember that time my mother told me about her friend who had to go into the Quarter Quell and how she gave her the yellow canary that used to be her pet. I never saw that canary, it must have died before I was born, just like I never saw Madylin.

"She shouldn't have died," Haymitch says gruffly. "It should have been me. It should always have been me."

The three old friends look at each other for one more second and then let go of each other, going back to each of their tasks at hand. Maysilee lets herself into the helicopter and takes off. My mom walks over to me and starts taking the medicine out of the green bag.

"Here we go, Katniss," she says pulling out a long, thin syringe. "You just have to –AHH!"

A giant Peacekeeper has appeared from behind the helicopter and grabbed my mother from behind. She still holds the medicine in the green bag and has a look of terror on her face. I am so shocked that the first person to run up and try to save her is not me, it's Haymitch. Soon Haymitch, Peeta, Gale, Johanna, Jameson, Madge, Finnick and I are all trying to take her back from the Peacekeeper's grasp. But more Peacekeepers are arriving and they outnumber us five to one. We can't fight them. The big one is taking away my mother. Pulling her away from me in the direction of the stands and leaving us here to fight the throng that is now upon us.

"I have to go save her!" I shout through the madness.

"I'll come with you!" Gale shouts back.

I quickly and silently agree, and then Gale and I depart from the group to chase the Peacekeeper who has my mom. Looking over my shoulder as I run I stare into Peeta's eyes and he stares into mine. I try to convey _don't die, _as best as I can and I see him mimicking it. Haymitch is fighting alongside him and shoots me a look of support. Peeta, Haymitch, and I are a team, but Gale and I were a time first and that is why I need his help today.

We run after the Peacekeeper as fast as I can go, given my injury. After a while when Gale is frustrated of slowing down for me he scoops me up and keeps running. I am getting tired of being carried by now and I think that after we save my mother that medicine will come in real handy. As we run I see Jessi, the girl who agreed to help me after I caught her attempting to kill Finnick. Well I don't see her exactly. I see her dead body. Killed by a Peacekeeper, no doubt. I sharply draw a breath. It is my fault, as is everything else. But I can't deal with this now so I just yet the usual numbness associated with death envelope me.

"Gale, stop running!" I shout quickly when I see the Peacekeeper and my mom slow down. He is talking to her, I think he's trying to get the medicine so I can't recover. Dropped from Gale's hold, I race over to them.

"Let go of her!" I demand fiercely.

The Peacekeeper only smirks. He holds a knife to my mother's throat. "If you try to swipe that medicine I'll kill her," he says to me. "Now," to my mother. "Please give me the medicine."

My mom whimpers and I look at her, silently telling her to give him the medicine. She obliges by slowly handing the green bag to the Peacekeeper, but at the last second pulls it away from him. The Peacekeeper is angry and strikes to kill her but she ducks quickly out of the way and runs to me. With Gale fighting off the Peacekeeper my mom forces me to lie down and takes out the syringe again.

She lifts up my shirt and rips off the bandages, there isn't enough time to do it in a less painful way. My wound looks very deadly without it's coverings. The dark splotch attacks my entire stomach. My mother pulls back the syringe and jabs it into my wound. I stifle a cry of pain but I don't have to for long. The hurt in my stomach is disappearing rapidly and the edges of the wound are starting to grow new skin right before my eyes. Wherever my mother got this medicine it is very advanced. I button my shirt over the healing wound and my mother is already treating my injured leg with the same stuff. With two needles I am as good as new.

"Thank you," I say to her with round eyes. I rarely thanked her for anything back home because I always did everything for myself. I could never quite forgive her for flying off the handle when my father was blown up in the mine accident because it left Prim's life in danger. But now she has saved my life. Without her, there would be no me.

My mother and I stare at each other for a long time until I hear her sharp intake of breath. She squeezes her eyes together tight and then opens them again, looking into my own and starting to shake, drawing a hand to her chest she wraps her hand around the arrow that has pierced it. I look down, terrified, and see the blood starting to expand from the place of puncture.

"Mom. Mom are you okay?" I start asking hysterically. "Mom!"

Gale whips around from in front of me where he is still fighting the Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper uses his moment of indifference to take a swipe at him which Gale deflects without even looking. He looks at my bleeding mother and me and immediately kills the big Peacekeeper, who makes a reverberating thud when he hits the ground.

I hold my mother close to me and see that her eyelids are still fluttering and she's taking ragged breaths, her bosom rising and falling preciously with only moments to spare. Without taking a hand off my mother, I slowly turn around to see who shot the arrow that killed her. I gasp when I see that it's Plutarch and his sorry look can't redeem him in my eyes.

"You," I say as loudly as I can muster with a trembling bottom lip. "Why you?" I ask, trying to make sense of it all myself.

"I'm sorry Katniss," he says loudly, almost business like. "But if I didn't join their side, they were going to kill me."

Anger flashes in my eyes. "Then you should have died! Why did you betray us? All this time has it been a lie?" This is Plutarch. He has saved my life multiple times.

"No it was real. I just can't work against the Capitol any longer. They have my family as hostages. They wanted me on their side. To kill your allies."

"SHE'S NOT MY ALLY; SHE'S MY MOM!" I shout into the arena and for a moment all the other battles go silent and ours is the only still spot in the arena.

"Katniss I'm-" Plutarch begins but stops as a knife plunges through his back. He falls to the ground like a chess piece and reveals Cinna to be standing behind him. Cinna killed Plutarch because Plutarch killed my mom. Or did he?

I turn back to my mother and she is still breathing a little. I am struck by a sudden idea. The medicine! I fish the green bag out of her frozen hand and pull out the syringe.

"No, Katniss," my mother says sadly. "There was only enough fluid to help you. It's gone now."

_No, _I think, _it can't just be gone. Things don't just run out. It can't be gone!_

My mother watches the struggle on my face, "I love you Katniss," she says.

_Oh no, _I think again. She can't be saying I love you. That's what people say when they're about to die. She can't be about to die. There's so many things we never did together. I just started appreciating her again. She hasn't even talked to Prim. Poor Prim, she will be crushed. We already lost our father. Cinna is watching the scene from a few meters away and I see an expression of pity on his face, with tears mingling with the gold eyeliner he wears.

"Katniss," my mother says to me and then after some decision. "Gale. It's up to you and your friends now to stop the injustice of the Capitol. My friends have died in the process of it, and I know that some of yours have too."

I think of Rue, and Darius, and the Avox girl and know that she is right.

"Your fathers tried to start a rebellion and the Capitol had them killed in that mine on purpose. So do it for them."

"We will mom!" I say. "But you can help us, you can stay strong we will get you medicine!"

My mother laughs a weary little laugh full of sorrow and a little pity at my naivety. "I couldn't help you if I tried Katniss," she says sadly. "And we both know I haven't tried very hard since your father was taken from us,"

"That wasn't your fault, mom. You were sad. You were-" my tears are falling onto her chest as she shushes me.

"I love you and your sister both. I would tell you to take care of Prim, but you have been doing that effortlessly for a long while. Just remember...to say..."

She stops breathing. I can't accept this, this can't be true! I yank the syringe out of the green bag and press it into her. It must work. It has to work.

It isn't working. Nothing's working. I can't bring her back. She's gone. I am an orphan.

"NO!" I am crying hysterically. This is not allowed. My family is not supposed to mix with the rebellion and the Games. They are always supposed to be watching, from the outside looking in, never actually involved.

Gale is trying to calm me down, his hand is reaching out to my shoulder but not actually touching it. I don't let him touch it. I won't let him touch it. I turn away from him, wanting to be alone. I want to be alone in an arena full of people dying, people crying, and people killing each other. I wonder if they all want to be alone too. If we all want to be alone why don't we stop fighting? Why can't we stop fighting? Why can't the fighting end?

I stand up. I need to get away from my mom's body. But I can't just leave it here, what can I do with it?

"Katniss," Gale says softly to me, trying to put an arm around my shivering body. I shove him away from me.

"Go away Gale!" I say to him loudly. "Don't you get it? If you are close to me you will die. They kill the people I love. The people I love die."

"I'll take my chances," Gale begins. He's trying to hug me again.

"Well I'm done with chances!" I shout, the tears streaming down my face and making my neck uncomfortably wet. "I'm done with odds! They are never in my favour, Gale and they never will be. You have to get away from me."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks for a final time.

"JUST TAKE HER BODY AWAY!" I scream at him, and then more quietly still, "I can't handle this." And it is true. I can't.

Gale gently carried my mother away from me. I watched him climb the stands and put her on a topmost bench, where some other bodies were. The bodies people cared about had been laid out on the top bench and even the Peacekeepers weren't disturbing them because some of their friends' corpses were there too. Jessi body isn't there. Did no one care enough about her to bring her lifeless form out of the thick of weapons and fighting?

Is her corpse lying helplessly amidst the battle, accidentally being stepped on, no one caring? I don't like to think about that. I need to get her body and carry it to the stands. I don't want her to be alone. No one should be alone, even in death.

I turn away from the sight of the sad scene and start running. I don't know where I'm running to, I just want to stumble upon Jessi's body and to carry it to the stands. I run until I hit a wall. My vision is so blurry from tears and from the fact that I don't even want to see anything that I ran into something. It's a human wall. I look up at the wall's face. It's Cinna.

He grabs me and holds me tight and will not give up like Gale did. Eventually I stop struggling and fall limp in his arms, letting him tell me happy lies like "She has a good life," and "It's all going to be okay," and "There's nothing you could've done." There was something I could have done. I used up the medicine that could have saved her. It was my life in exchange for hers.

Sometimes I wonder if I should've given up on living years ago. If I should've jumped off my tribute plate to go to the Cornucopia early and gotten blown up like my father in the mine. Whenever these times arise I remember a reason to keep going like "Do it for Prim's sake," or "Mom would be devastated," or "Peeta." Today I can't force myself to think of a reason.

"Cinna?" I ask him quietly, looking up into the brown eyes and holding the hand that kept me steady through two Hunger Games and countless public appearances. "What happens when you pour water on a fire?"

Cinna looks puzzled and offers the obvious answer, "It puts the fire out."

"Exactly," I say. "Look at me," I wipe some of the many tears out from under my eyes. "I'm all wet, Cinna. They put me out. I can't be the girl on fire anymore."

Cinna puts a hand on each of my shoulders and bends down a little to look me in the eyes. "Yes you can," he says confidently. "They can never put you out, Katniss," Then he tilts my chin up to him, surveys my face, and repeats the advice he often gives me. "Remember, chin up, smile proud," he states but I can't do it. "Come on Katniss. At least you're not wearing mascara because it would be running by now,"

I know that Cinna thinks my mother's death is a serious matter and he is also sad. They were sort of friends after all. Cinna's just trying to cheer me up for now, and maybe I should take his word for it. I'll have plenty of time to grieve after I kill the President and finish what I started.

I hit Cinna playfully in the side and get my chin up, smiling proud. Cinna puts a familiar arm around me, shakes me once, "Now are you ready to go make them pay for this?" he asks.

"Yes." I said. Yes I was.

**Please, please, please review despite my lateness! **


	26. Chapter 26

**Big hugs to all my faithful readers! But I have to tell you all something slightly upsetting, at least to me. After posting Chapter 25 I got a few mean reviews. As you all know (hopefully) I do not mind people telling me my stories suck if they tell me how and why and do it in a mostly civil fashion. The person I speak of did nothing of the sort. They were so mad that I took over 2 days (btw I do have a life outside of fanfiction) to post the next chapter that they called me mean names and told me that all of my time is "useless" to them if I didn't spend it writing the chapters of the story. **

**Another person (I'm assuming the same one) went to another of my stories called "Tributes Vs. Vampires" that is a silly one but also from the Hunger Games fandom and wrote a very offensive review. The person is anonymous (they do not have an account) and they were going by blahblah when they left these mean messages. I'm sorry if I'm coming off petty (I admit, I am being a little petty) but this coward really hurt my feelings. They are a coward because they don't have an account and they used that fact to yell at me, even saying they would hit me (admittedly, I laughed at that) if I didn't write more. **

**I love everyone who takes the time to review my stories and this one person is ruining the fun of writing for me, and now you readers because, I am sorry to inform you, but I waited longer to post this chapter because of blahblah. It was my form of punishment. It was very childish of me and the wrong thing to do but I couldn't help myself. If this blahblah thinks all of my time is useless when I'm not writing the story, then I thought I would spend some of my useless time doing whatever the heck I want as I didn't update it. I am very sorry, please forgive me. I will never bring up this coward again, because they might just be looking for attention. Happy reading!**

Chapter 26

Gale, far away from me now, is fighting three Peacekeepers at once near the golden Cornucopia, leaving a disgruntled Madge with almost nothing to do as whenever anyone even tries to go near her he adds them to the his throng of opponents. Finnick is fighting too, and he even uses his good looks and charms to sway some of the audience members who still stare frightfully into the goings on the arena into joining our side. Haymitch is keeping President Snow at bay with the help of Mayor Wanthope (who must've appeared in the giant new helicopter I've noticed has just landed...wow, word must travel fast when fighting a battle) and little Bonnie. My eyes, however hard they try, cannot find Peeta's spot on the field, which gives me an uneasy feeling that I almost can't quell. But I do. I have to do my job, and my job doesn't involve cozy catch up time with the love of my life...or finding out if he's dead. That comes after, one or the other.

I walk through the mass of people, staying low to the ground with my face mostly concealed by my thick braid. I don't want all the Peacekeepers to realize I am the symbol of rebellion and not just a minor player in it and all come charging at me. Because most of them are pretty preoccupied already fighting my friends, no one immediately seeks me out. Cinna is sneaking behind me and, as a painful yell escapes someone's about-to-be-slit throat, he starts whispering.

"Katniss, I have a plan," he says and I turn back to him. We are now huddled in a tiny formation amidst a blood bath. Considering the circumstances, we are doing pretty well. No one really notices us. Sure, I had to shoot down a couple Peacekeepers, but who's counting?

"What is it?" I whisper back. I don't really have a plan so I'm glad someone does.

"Follow me," is Cinna's quiet, confusing answer. He gets up in a flash and starts sprinting towards the stands, in front of which Haymitch, Bonnie, and District 13's mayor are still battling the President. Because I am still without a plan and more so because I'm not letting Cinna get out of my sight again, I bolt up just as quickly and chase him towards the mystery destination.

Breathing heavy having just raced through a quarter length of the arena in about five minutes, I turn to Cinna. He's a lot faster than he looks, and he wasn't even chasing after designer clothes, which would be understandable giving his character. All jokes aside, without Cinna there would no rebellion. Or at least the rebellion would be really different. He played me up to the audience to keep me alive, and reinforced the mockingjay symbolism that has become so important throughout the past year. Cinna is just as revolutionary to the rebels as I am, probably more so.

Because Cinna's always been the artist and I have been the modelling clay. Haymitch, and I now know Maysilee before him, have always been the puppet masters of the show that has lately been my life. They provided me a canvas and I smeared my paint thin and light over some spots and thick and dark over others, but I always stayed inside the lines they provided me. Whenever I came up with something I thought was original, it had really been an idea they so carefully planted in my head. Even President Snow had some pull on my decisions, if blackmail none the less. The truth is, I have been played with .I have been toyed with. I have been used as a chess piece in the match of the century, whether a sacrificial pawn or an all powerful queen I don't know. I've never been my own person because, despite the situations I've been thrust into, I've never truly known who I am. My father once told me that if I could find myself I would never starve. Roughly translated, if I know who I am others can never hurt me.

Where in the world is Katniss Everdeen and how can I find her? Who is she? I must know her, I must know her better than I know myself because she is me. I know who I was before, just some girl in the poorest district trying to get by and keep her family alive. Sometimes I feel like I'm becoming a bloodthirsty monster, like I have seen so much, felt so much, had to deal with so much that someday I'll wake up and snap and, not caring about anything, go out and murder everyone who has ever caused me pain or heartache. But who am I now?

_I am the turning point, _I answer myself, _I am the unanswered enigma that is life._ I may not know how this whole battle is going to play out, but I do know how I`m going to deal with it. I`ll do what I`ve always done, I`ll stick by my friends and family. I`ll be brave and sacrifice myself if it has to come to that. But if and when it does, I will be ready for it and I will take down as many people who are on the Presidents side with me. And in this oblique moment, I figure out who I am, and who I am needs to help Cinna in whatever his plan is and then obliterate Snow.

``So,`` I ask Cinna, still panting a little from the run, ``This plan doesn`t involve twirling, lipstick, and sparkly dresses does it?`` I try weakly.

``No, that was last year,`` Cinna smiles. ``This one`s a little more up your alley. In fact, I`m a little disappointed you didn`t come up with it yourself,``

I ponder this and say, ``By up my alley do you mean, sneakily defy the Capitol and successfully kill the President?``

Cinna`s lips twist up into a grin. ``Exactly`` he says.

Marginally more excited now, I follow him up to the stands, where he`s leading me. I catch a glimpse of Haymitch`s face when we`re getting close. It screams _HIDE!_ and I know why. He knows that if Snow sees me his rampage will only increase. So I duck down beside Cinna and we speed around the battlers. We`re hidden behind an outcropping of stands where they can`t see us when I think the coast is clear.

``I don`t think they saw us,`` I murmur to Cinna as we stand squeezed together behind the wall so that we stay concealed. ``Care to tell me where you`re taking me?``

``Fine,`` Cinna sighs, as if letting me in on the plan is very taxing on him. ``You know how the Gamemakers control the arena?``

``Sure,`` I answer, not yet catching on. ``They can change the weather, make natural disasters, let out the muttations...``

``Exactly,`` says Cinna with a mischevious glint in his brown eyes that is not a benefit of the enhancing gold eyeliner. ``What if it wasn`t the Gamemakers who did that.``

I`m sure my eyes go big and round as I realize what Cinna`s saying and a smile decides to grace my lips, but Cinna has to clarify even farther to make sure I understand.

``What if that was us.`` he states simply.

I bolt. I run through the now topsy-turvy stands to where I know the control panel room is. It`s the place where Claudius Templesmith sat through these live Games and always delivered his heartbreaking or hope-waking news. It`s where the Head Gamemaker can manipulate the tributes every move. Cinna is running after me and we finally reach the door of the white hub.

I`ve never seen this place up close before and I don`t know what I was imagining, but it wasn`t this. It`s just a little white box, it can probably fit four people inside it, at most. The door has one window –frosted glass so I can`t see inside too well.

``Are there guards?`` I mouth over my shoulder to Cinna. If there are guards I don`t want them to hear me.

He shrugs –the universal _I don`t know_ gesture- and puts a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet, as he creeps up behind me. He stops beside me for a second, hovers there with an undecided expression, and then, out of nowhere, pounces on the doorknob and tries to wrestle it open. It`s not that surprising when it is locked. It is slightly more surprising when two armed guards, with different uniforms than Peacekeepers but the same Capitolian seal, pounce out from either sides of the hut and start to attack us.

I immediately sling my bow and arrows off of my shoulder and get ready to shoot at the guard I face when I remember that Cinna has his back to me and faces another, for all I know meaner, guard virtually unarmed. I slide a long knife out of my belt and back pass it too Cinna. I feel him take it, giving my hand a little squeeze as well, and then focus on battling my guard.

The guard takes a jab at me with a small metal poll. It doesn`t look deadly at all but when it makes contact with the bare skin of my wrist I start to shake and jerk in pure agony. I`ve been tasered! The pain only lasts a moment though, and when it`s over I bounce back stronger. With no time for arrows and the menacing taser in my face, I punch the guard in the face. He wasn`t expecting that. When he`s blundering back from the hit, I strike again, this time with an already placed arrow. It`s a bull`s eye straight through the heart. He falls, splutters pitifully for a moment then dies. It was a good shot, he probably didn`t even feel much pain. Before I can think the better of it, I tuck his body onto a nearby bleacher. Then I turn back to Cinna.

He is looking down at a dead guard too, this one slightly more gruesome than mine. Since all Cinna had was a knife he had to use it to kill the guard. The corpse isn`t pretty. We move the body onto the bleacher beside the other guard and then look at each other. That`s when I notice Cinna is holding a hand on his lower back and wincing. Before he can stop me I turn him around and check what`s wrong with his back.

After lifting his shirt up a little, I see it. The guard managed to make a long, but thankfully shallow, gash along Cinna`s lower back. I can`t investigate further because Cinna briskly turns around.

``It`s nothing, Katniss,`` he says softly.

I scowl. It is not nothing. But there is nothing I can do now, so I let Cinna wave it away for the time being.

``Well, after that minor complication,`` he says, doing his best to keep the pain out of his voice. I can still detect it, for the record.

I nod though, brusquely. ``What are we going to do now?`` I ask him. ``We can`t get in there, it`s locked.``

``Is it?`` Cinna asks me, pulling something jangly out of his pocket. Keys! ``I took them out of that unfortunate fellow`s pocket before I killed him,``

I smile big and hug him, ``Cinna!`` I exclaim.

``Katniss,`` he responds. ``Now, should we shimmy on over to that control panel?``

I extract myself and nod. What would I do without Cinna.

The door of the white hut creaks open after we present it with the keys. I thought this place was little and shabby, pretty much a letdown, from the outside, but on the inside it has all the wonders, and horrors, that I imagined. The walls are lined with TV screens monitoring every inch of the arena and a huge panel of various buttons with tiny printed labels take up pretty much the whole room. Even more controls –ropes to pull- hang down from the ceiling and a big cushiony spinning chair is the centerpiece of this fine mastery. I can`t help saying ``whoa,``

Cinna pulls out the spinning chair for me but I say, ``No, you sit,`` and he can`t turn down the offer. His back must be killing him. I rest my arms on the back of Cinna`s seat and my chin on top of my arms as I try to look at all the TV screens at once. I can see everything! All of the fighters, all of the spectators, all of the bystanders, everything. But there's only one thing I`m looking for in particular. And I find him. Peeta is standing in a corner of the arena with a big group of spectators from the Capitol and I can tell by the way he is using his hands that he is giving them a speech. Whatever he`s saying it`s working because everyone he talks to goes off and joins our side on the battle field. But all I am thinking is,_ yes, Peeta is alive!_ Peeta is alive.

``So what should we do first?`` I ask Cinna, now that that is out of the way. He starts scanning the little buttons that litter the control panel as I wander around to see what else is in here. A filing cabinet in a corner catches my eye so I open the top drawer. It`s filled with tribute files.

As Cinna scans the tiny buttons, I skim through the files. Abernathy, Haymitch; Abraxus, Mallory; Angelwood, Joyce; Apples, Landon; are a few of the A names but I quickly pass the A section and skip to the Es. I want to see what they've got on me. I find my name quickly enough, right under Etiene, Lily and above Everdeen, Primrose:

_Everdeen, Katniss_

_Games: 74__th__, 75__th* __Quarter Quell, 76__th_

_District: 12_

_Gender: Female_

_Training Scores: 11, 12, 12_

_Skills: Hunting –bow and arrow, swimming_

_Status: Victor_

_Height: 5'5_

_Weight: 110 lb_

_Mentor: Abernathy, Haymitch_

_District Partner: Mellark, Peeta_

_Biological Parents: Everdeen, Kaul & Everdeen, Pricilla Glassy_

_Siblings: Primrose Everdeen_

_Other Family: Aunt Hawthorne, Hazelle Oaksin. Cousins Hawthorne, Gale; Hawthorne, Rory; Hawthorne, Vick; Hawthorne, Posy. [sic. This is not true; a lie formulated by Everdeen, Katniss to cover up a possible romance with Hawthorne, Gale, when she was already publicly engaged to Mellark, Peeta.]_

_Other Info: Everdeen, Katniss is the leading force in an anti-Capitol rebellion starting in District 12 which was reinforced by the victors in the 75__th__ Quarter Quell interviews. Possible District 13 involvement [sic. District 13 involvement has been confirmed]. _

It went on for pages after that. They documented my entire life ever since Prim's name was drawn out of that Reaping ball. I am just reading about the finer points of my life when I hear Cinna say, "Katniss?" in a hurried tone and I say, "What?" and he just points at one of the many screens and says "Look."

I do, with my heart pounding in my throat as my stomach decides to drop a few inches farther down than normal. The concern in Cinna's voice….this is something bad. Is someone hurt? Is it Peeta?

It is Peeta, I see as I look at the screen. It is one of the bigger ones because it displays the Cornucopia in all its finery. A crowd of people surrounds the seen. In it's middle two Peacekeeper are holding him as he struggles. The President himself paces in front of the display holding, to my dismay, a sharp knife.

"Katniss Everdeen will come to me before I harm her precious Peeta Mellark," he says menacingly and even though he can't know exactly where my eyes are as I look at the screen, I swear he looks into them.

The spectators from the Capitol who bought tickets to come see the Hunger Games broadcasted live this year are huddling together with their pastel colored skin and weird tattoos and hairstyles. The Presidents original idea of appearing calm, cool, and collected in front off them seems to have gone out the window as he's acting quite deranged with his knife just inches from Peeta's throat. _With his knife just inches from Peeta's throat?_ I suck in a breath. I feel physical pain when Peeta is in danger.

No one I recognize is at the scene, they must still be fighting Peacekeepers elsewhere.

"Come on Katniss. Just come talk to me. You might not even have to die, I'm sure we can work something out," the President taunts. "Or I might just have to…oops," he says softly.

He presses the knife against Peeta's throat hard enough for droplets of blood to spring from it.

"Don't do it, Katniss!" Peeta strains as his throat bleeds. "Please-"

President Snow cuts him off by digging the knife a little deeper. I see Peeta's eyes close, trying to portray no unnecessary pain so I won't come. But I'm coming. He must know that.

I shove the file that's still in my hands back into the drawer hap hazardously and shakily, but quickly, head towards the door.

"Katniss," Cinna begins, "You can't go."

I look back over my shoulder at him. "I have to." I say matter-of-factly. Because it's true.

Cinna looks like he's going to protest again, but then stops, looking understanding. "Okay, but come back." He says.

"I will," I say. I don't know if I'm lying or not. I will do anything to keep Peeta safe. Anything. "Stay here." I add to Cinna.

"I'll help out how I can from here," he says gesturing to the control panel.

Now I really have to go. Every second I delay is another second Snow and the Peacekeepers could be hurting Peeta.

"Katniss," says Cinna again as I'm about to cross the threshold to the outside world. I chance a glance back at him, wasting more of mine and Peeta's precious time. Cinna puts his chin up when he sees that I am looking and I mimic it. "Stay strong, girl on fire," he says finally.

I smile at him; even in dismay I listen to his advice. Chin up, smile proud.

However, that is all the time I can afford to waste, so I bolt out the door. No one is sitting in the stands anymore so I am only accompanied by the dead who line the bleachers. It's an unsettling sight and feeling which motivates me to run down into the actual arena extremely quickly. I don't know if Snow can see me. If he can't see me, is he still hurting Peeta? I can't have that, so I start making noise.

"PEETA!" I call out loudly. Far ahead of me I can see the Cornucopia and I notice the President's head whip around. He can definitely see me now and I can hear his faint laughter.

I speed up my running; I'm going faster than I ever could have with my injuries. I'm thankful to my mother for bringing the medicine but then I remember that she is gone and fear I'm about to break down again. I shove the unwelcome feelings to the back of my mind. I have to make sure Peeta's okay first.

Finally I reach the scene of the struggle. I run straight up to Peeta before anyone can stop me and wipe the streak of blood off his neck with my thumb. He shivers.

"I told you not to come," he whispers to me, with distressed blue eyes.

"Since when have I listened to you?"

I am so unbelievably happy at this moment because I have lived through everything so far and Peeta has lived through everything too and somehow we're together now that I forget everything else and bring my lips to his, despite the Peacekeepers holding him back and the President pacing in front of us. I snap out of it quickly because of the situation at hand, but for a moment there I really do forget everything.

President Snow is addressing me now. "You really care about him don't you," he whispers eerily. "You would do anything to keep him safe. You would make any deal."

His voice is hypnotic, lulling me into a false sense of security and a real sense of insecurity. I imagine a world without Peeta. A world where it's my fault he died. Where he died because of me. I imagine living with that on my conscious. It would be impossible. It wouldn't be living.

Then, just as quickly as it came, I snap out of it. I don't have to live in a world with Peeta because I have fists, and better yet, weapons, but first of all I'm going to try out the fists. I punch Snow in the face. Then, before he can recover, I turn on the Peacekeepers, hitting them and brandishing my own knife until they let go of Peeta. Eventually they do and we stand huddled together, so stunned at the easy escape that we don't know what to do next. Unfortunately, President Snow does.

"Get up you imbeciles!" he screams at the fallen Peacekeepers and they scramble to their feet. Then the President grabs a fistful of my shirt, holding me inches from his face. Peeta frantically tries to free me but I hear a Peacekeeper punch him. I wince. It sounded like it hurt. "Now, Katniss," the President says through gritted teeth. I can smell his bloody rose breath. It's nauseating. "You don't have to be difficult. Or you can be difficult." He pulls out his knife again. "I don't really care either way. I won't have to clean up the mess."

"You can't hurt her!" Peeta shouts from behind me.

"Oh can't I?" Snow asks, followed by some cynical laughter. "You'll find there's few things I can't do, Peeta, being the President and all."

I close my eyes. I can't struggle anymore, Peacekeepers are closing in from every direction and Snow is brandishing a knife in my face. I'm thinking _this is it, we are done for_ until I hear a voice that gives me hope.

"Oh yeah?"

Finnick Odair comes charging through the sea of Peacekeepers and even with a venomous snake bite he manages to be cool. Taking Snow by surprise he takes a swipe at him and catches him in the shoulder. It's not a deep cut but Finnick doesn't pay attention to that, he just moves on to the Peacekeepers who are holding Peeta hostage. Peeta escapes them and only then do I pay attention to other things enough to notice that there is a sickly sweet blue liquid dripping onto my arm.

I look up to see where it's coming from and gasp. The puncture mark is bleeding the same blue blood that he bled that day Finnick, Gale, and I rescued Peeta, Madge, and Johanna. Snow is still holding the fistful of my shirt but his grip is limp. I shake him off easily and run to join Peeta and Finnick. Snow is walking slowly, but apparently with much effort, towards us and yelling at his Peacekeepers.

"Must…have…medicine…" And then when they don't move, "GET IT FOR ME!" The Peacekeepers scurry off to get his "medicine" which I know is real blood. During the 74th Games' Victory Tour I heard horror stories about some of the enhancements you can get in the Capitol. I heard one about people who were old, but didn't want to die, getting a surgery where they can stay young but have to drink others' blood to do so. One side effect was that their real blood would turn blue. Back then I thought it was a rumor, but it all makes sense now. "SOME OF YOU STAY TO TAKE CARE OF THEM!" Snow screams at the mob of Peacekeepers who all left once he told them to.

The crowd that once watched Snow torture Peeta has dissipated rapidly and now it is replaced by an angry horde of Peacekeepers. Peeta, Finnick, and I stand in the middle of it with our backs to each other in a sort of triangle formation as we battle them, trying against all odds to cling to life.

"Thank you so much," Peeta yells to Finnick as we fight.

"You're welcome but we need to get out of here!" he yells back.

"Affirmative!" I agree.

"What should we do?" Finnick wonders aloud as he bludgeons a Peacekeeper to death.

As if answering our prayers, a ten feet high wall of fire is conjured up behind the Peacekeepers and starts advancing on them. Cinna must've done this to help us catch a break! I mentally thank him. Then I realize the downside of this. The fire is going to attack the Peacekeepers and we're situated directly in the middle of them. I look at the others.

"RUN!" I yell and our little trio makes its way away from the fire, through the Peacekeepers and to safety behind a rather large rock. The flames haven't even reached her yet and I can hear the Peacekeepers stampeding to get away from the still advancing fire. Then the flames arrive. I feel their extreme heat even through the boulder that shields us from them and I see their orange edges on either side of it.

We sit tight for a couple of minutes, listening to the roaring fire and the screaming people. I hope with all my heart that none of ours where harmed by the fire but don't let myself think about it for too long. It scares me too much. It seems like we could just wait out the firestorm here until we see yet another group of Peacekeepers. These ones are entering the arena through the stands we face –Snow must've brought in backup. But they aren't charging right at us. They are forming a line that cancels out all possible exits and just standing there. We are literally between a rock and a hard place.

"What are we going to do?" I ask the boys frantically.

Neither says anything at first but eventually Finnick speaks. "I'll go distract them," he says suddenly. "I'll go distract them and then you two can escape!"

What he is saying sinks in. If he "goes and distracts them," he's going to get himself killed.

"I can't let you do that, Finnick," Peeta says. "You've saved my life. I'm not going to let you throw away yours."

Finnick answers with a half smile. "If I die, it's a good way to go. Doing the heroic thing."

We all no that there is no if involved in this decision. There are at least fifty Peacekeeper. Finnick will die.

"You can't do it, Finnick!" I cry. "Let me, and you two can escape,"

"No," Finnick and Peeta say together, and then Finnick continues, "I'm a heartthrob Katniss, this is what I do. Besides, we can't have you sacrificing yourself, either of you really. You're the main players in this Game. I've really just been along for the ride."

I sit dejectedly. There's really nothing I can say to that, partly because I know that it's true. I am the main player in this Game and if there's any hope of the rebellion succeeding I have to be around when it happens. Sacrifices have to be made. But I can't sacrifice Finnick, I just can't.

"Please don't," I say hollowly, knowing there is no real hope for him now.

"I have to, Katniss. If this is going to help create a better world for my son when he is born, I've gotta do it." Suddenly he becomes very serious and says, "Help Annie take care of him will you?" he bites down on his bottom lip. "I don't know if she can do it alone."

"We will," is my tear soaked reply as Peeta, his mouth in a hard line, nods once.

"Which reminds me," Finnick continues to me, "I still haven't gotten my sugar from you, sugar,"

I'm trying to figure how that reminded him of this when Finnick asks Peeta very bluntly and politely, "May I kiss your girlfriend?"

Peeta looks at me bemusedly and I nod, even scowling a little, despite my sadness.

Finnick leans in and presses his lips to mine, hard but warm, for a second and then stands up.

"Please don't go!" I try one final time.

Finnick just looks down at me sadly and says, "You guys sure as hell better win."

Then he is gone, running towards the Peacekeepers to distract them from getting to us. Suddenly the fire wall disappears and the other Peacekeepers are starting to get up and run towards us. Not wanting to leave the moment Finnick bought us in vain, I grab Peeta's hand and we run towards the stands. No Peacekeepers disturb us thanks to fire and Finnick. Fighting tears I sit down on the bleachers when we get there and Peeta sits beside me. At least we're at a spot with no bodies.

I bury my face in Peeta's chest, not wanting to watch Finnick fight the many Peacekeepers. His steady breaths soothe me so I stop hyperventilating but can do nothing to end my distress. Five minutes pass. I can't take this anymore. I get up and head toward the white hut, to see how Cinna is doing. Peeta follows me.

When I open the door I only start crying harder. Peeta races up behind me but before the "What's wrong?" even leaves his lips he swallows it because he knows full well what's wrong? What's wrong is lying dead before us.

Cinna, with his arms and legs struck out at awkward angles, is taking up most of the available floor space on the control panel room's floor. Whoever did him in didn't stick around for me to pummel them, they just left like the evil coward they are. Cinna. I remember the last words he said to me 'Stay strong, girl on fire," I am completely bawling my eyes out. He is my Cinna, strong and steady until the end. He never fell apart when I had to go into the Games again and again, he was always my hand to hold when I waited to set foot in the arena. Now he's nothing and his hands are getting colder every second.

"Cinna!" I am screaming. "Cinna!" I am screaming like if I scream hard enough he will wake up or I will wake up and this will all have been a bad dream. "Cinna!"

Peeta just cradles me in his arms and I can feel one of his own tears drop onto my head. I keep on screaming Cinna's name until Peeta walks/forces me out of the room. It's probably a good thing. He probably thinks that me seeing the body is making me more depressed. Peeta sits me down on the bleachers and then carries Cinna's body out of the hut, placing it ever so gently and kindly on one of the highest bleachers where no one can get it and it will be safe until it's buried. I'm glad it's safe, but there's no Cinna in there. I walk over to the body and Peeta and look down at Cinna's face, at his gold eyeliner. I notice that his tie is askew. Cinna managed to wear a tie to the last battle of his life, there's something to be admired in that. I reach down and straighten the tie. He would want to look his best. Then I can't stare at him any longer and Peeta must be able to tell because he scoops me up before the tears even start falling again and carries me to a place away from there.

We're sitting on the stands again now, my face buried in his chest and I'm crying for Cinna and for Finnick who's probably gone by now too. Peeta is watching him fight the Peacekeepers because I can't. I keep asking, "Is he dead?" or "is it over?" and he keeps telling me to "Shhh," until the final time I ask.

"Is he dead yet?" I lift my face off him a little, chancing a glance at the battle field.

"Yes, Katniss," Peeta says in a soft, sad voice. He kisses my temple. "Yes, Katniss, he's gone."

I feel the greatest sadness but then I push it to the back of my mind, for now, like I've been doing all day. I dry my tears and put on my game face. "There's something I have to do." I say in a business-like tone.

"Okay," says Peeta. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No." I say to him, he looks a little hurt so I add in a softer tone, "I have to do this alone."

He nods uncertainly. "Okay," he says. "But be careful, where are you going?"

"Just to the control panel room," I tell him. "I'll be fine."

"Well I'm going to get…Finnick," a choked sound echoes from Peeta's throat. "His…body…I mean,"

I try to nod briskly. "Okay," I say, "You be careful."

"I will," Peeta tells me. "Always."

Then he is taking me in his arms and kissing me. The kiss is salty because I can taste his tears and mine.

"I love you," he says, brushing a strand of hair off my neck before he leaves. I don't even say it back, but I think he knows. I hope he knows.

Now I am all alone. I walk into the control panel room and sit down in the big, cushiony spinning chair. I survey the all of the little buttons until I find the one that I'm looking for. I look at the options it comes with, I'm going to have to do a little programming and personalizing, but I know this will do exactly what I want. It's a good thing that the machine has a picture of President Snow programmed into it with the tributes and other important figures, because they're going to have to recognize him if they're going to get the job done.

**MOCKINGJAY IS SO SOON! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Last for real chapter, yes it is insanely too long.**

Chapter 27

I set the time limit on the machine for one hour, _click; _I need the time to get everyone I care about away from the spot I've arranged for President Snow to be attacked, and to get him there. I sit there in the chair a little longer after that, looking at but not really seeing the TV screens that line the walls. I'm thinking about Finnick and Cinna and my mom and my dad and Rue and Thresh and Darius and the Avox girl and Caesar Flickerman and Plutarch Heavensbee and Madylin Donner and what a shame it is that they'll never be able to see a world with no Hunger Games and no overpowering Capitol and no separation between the districts. I wonder if I'll even see it, my plan has to work before it's confirmed and, let's be honest, how often have my plans ever worked?

I tried to put this plan into action on my own. Right now, I am completely and utterly alone. This is something I should've done a long time ago; try to fix my problems with out dragging other innocent people into it. This decision really should have been made eons ago. When Peeta and I were ordered to kill one another at the end of the 74th Hunger Games I shouldn't have only threatened to kill myself, I should really have done it. Then Peeta would have been crowned victor, the rebellion wouldn't have begun, at least then because I'm sure Haymitch and Maysilee would have kept on trying, even in their separate ways. If that happened so many lives would be have been spared.

What would be happening right now in a world without me? It is summer, so a normal Hunger Games _would _be going on and two kids from each district would be sacrificed to die, except for one exception. The victor would go one to live a life of fame and fortune, but I for one know that the victor life is not all it's cracked up to be. Even without all the dangers added to mine because I unknowingly started a rebellion, it's not a good life. You have to live with the knowledge that you killed to stay alive and you took children away from their parents. I still wake up in the night sometimes thinking of Rue and what might have been if I got there faster that fateful night and untangled her from that knife. Then I always start thinking about what would have happened if I didn't cover her dead and fragile body with wild flowers as a tribute to her, and didn't try to sing her into peace. If I had let her body be taken away by the helicopter as I should have without making any fuss, would the President have still seen the rebellion brewing under the surface and decide that Katniss Everdeen and her friends needed to be stopped.

I shouldn't have been so brave all those times in recent years. I should have played by the Capitol's rules and let them use my mortality, so bluntly, and the mortality of others for entertainment. I should have fallen in love with Peeta not because I wanted to but because they were going to force us together anyway in the end, for their precious cameras. Maybe I shouldn't have even volunteered my life for Prim's when her name was pulled out of the Reaping ball, defying not the Capitol but Maysilee plans to rig my jumping up to save my sister. I should have been a coward from the start.

But, then again, aren't I being cowardly now, and if I am shouldn't I be happy about it? Shouldn't I be happy that I've finally seen the error in my ways and stopped dragging other people in my messes? But is that what I've really done? I have all my friends out there fighting in the arena while I sit here and plan the President's demise. I should be out there fighting too, I realize suddenly. I was never the behind the scenes girl, much to my dismay I have always been center stage.

Then I realize that I've been wrong all along. The cowardly thing to do would be to listen and be a slave to the Capitol all my life. It is brave to stand up and try to change things. It was brave to be a part of the rebellion and it still is and it is brave to include my friends, who want to help, in the rebellion because it would be cowardly to hide them away from the battles because I'm too afraid that they will die in them. Cinna and Finnick and my mother did not die in vain today, they died brave deaths that will, if I can help it, save Panem from another seventy six years of misery.

As this realization dawns I stop just looking at the TV screens and see what's actually going on. What's actually going on astounds me. Many of the Capitolians have begun to fight on our side; the death of their favorite victor Finnick Odair has finally knocked some sense into them. And the helicopters. At least a dozen of them are landing in the arena, soaring through the air to join us, and unloading more troops. The people stepping out of them are also on our side. I see symbols painted on the sides of the helicopters and, looking closer, I realize they are numbers. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…I cannot believe it. There's a helicopter of fighters from every district. Trained from birth Careers are stomping out and pummeling the President's Peacekeepers. People from other, lesser districts are calmly exiting to get their revenge. And more survivors from the 13th District are racing from the last and largest helicopters to take back their right to live above ground.

The people in those helicopters must have known they were going to do this before today. You can't move from district to district in only a couple hours. Somehow each district had a rebellion war force, and they all melded into one on this day when it matters most.

I jump up from my seat in the spinning chair, straighten my bow and arrows against my back and run out to the battle field. If all these people are fighting now, then why shouldn't I? I almost trip while running down through the stands because of my anxiety to get out into the arena. New bodies have accumulated since I last went into the control panel room and one is Bonnie's. I remember how sweet she was in the woods and how much she wanted to fight. None of us should have let her. All of us are to blame. But, as I've been doing all day, I cover up the sadness with a feeling of numbness. Sadness is just a distraction from my goal.

Finnick's body is there too. Peeta has brought it away from all the fighting, just like he promised. But Peeta himself is no where to be seen. Where is he?

In the arena the sight is terror stricken. People are battling every which way and almost everyone has some sort of injury. I can see Jameson and Johanna, the dynamic duo, are doing a lot of damage to the opposing side and I can see Rue's parents are here fighting too. They must have came out of the helicopter from District 11. I wonder where her sisters are. I hope they are safe. No one in Rue's family can suffer, not when she's already gone.

I race through the grounds, searching for a place where help is needed. Running, I finally see a disaster that I can try to eliminate. Madge is fighting with a Peacekeeper at least twice her size. Gale has his back turned to her, fighting three other Peacekeepers at once, one of whom is Romulus Thread. I see the arrow fly from Madge's Peacekeeper's hand and right towards her heart as if it's in slow motion. I cover the distance between her and myself in a giant leap, situating myself right in front of her so the arrow can't hurt her. It flies forward and steady, but I'm not going to let it kill me either. I snatch it out of mid air and keep running with it, ignoring the blood on my hand from the pointy end that grazed it.

"Thanks, Katniss!" I hear Madge shout from behind me.

I turn to her to make sure that the Peacekeeper isn't trying another shot. To my dismay he is. So I fit his arrow into my bow and shoot. He is so busy trying to kill Madge that he doesn't notice me and has no time to prepare for the arrow burying itself into his chest. Madge won't have any trouble with him anymore.

"No problem!" I shout back. I had to do it.

Then I turn away from Madge, letting Gale take care of her and keep on running. I'm trying to find Snow. I need to get him to the Cornucopia, where I've arranged for him to be attacked. I don't see him anywhere. Where did he go?

Just then a big hand clasps over my mouth and an arm grabs me around the waist. I am so caught off guard that the capturer has time to flip me up over their shoulder and starts carrying me in some unknown direction. All I can see is white cotton because my face is pressed against their back. It must be a Peacekeeper.

I start to struggle, kicking and hitting and biting them to try and make them let go of me. None of this works. I just hear a dark chuckle emitting from them as I try to escape their ironclad grip. They don't say anything, just laugh their meddling laugh as I scream, "Let go of me!"

Finally they do say something. "Not a chance, princess."

I recognize that voice as I continue to blindly kick my capturer. It is Romulus Thread. If I'd been looking at Gale and Madge as I ran away from them I would have seen that Thread followed me away from him. I start to kick more vigorously.

"Stop that," he orders harshly. Then he slides a knife over the exposed skin of my lower back. I try in vain to stop him, but I can't. The cut is shallow but it still forces me to fall limply over his shoulder like a rag doll, the pain eclipsing my will to fight him. "I would kill you now. But someone else wants to do it," he continues with a sigh.

He keeps marching in whatever direction and I am jostled roughly about, feeling the searing pain of the cut he just made on my back. I muster up all my strength and lift my head a few inches to try and see what's going on.

Gale and Madge are running right behind the Peacekeeper and I! They keep having to turn back to fight off the other two Peacekeepers that are chasing them. For some reason, Peacekeeper Thread doesn't notice. He just keeps marching me forward. I guess, because it's so loud in the arena by now, he can't depict one Peacekeeper's shout from another.

I stare into Gale's eyes and he puts a finger to his lips. He wants me to be quiet about this so the Peacekeeper doesn't catch wind of it. He must have some none to well thought out plan to save me.

"Gale, no," I mean to show him this message in my own eyes but it accidentally comes out as an audible murmur.

Thread whips around. "You're friend's around, eh?" he asks menacingly and then he spots Gale and Madge, running straight at him because they can't go back at the other Peacekeepers who's friends have now joined in on the fun and outnumber them two to one.

Romulus Thread starts slowing walking towards Gale and Madge. The four other soldiers behind them bring their running to a halt and grin. They have cornered two of my friends. I twist my face around to see what's going on. Gale and Madge are back to back now, Gale is facing the mob of Peacekeepers behind them and Madge is facing me and Thread. One of her hands holding a shaky knife and the other is woven into Gales. She looks scared, but who wouldn't be. I see all this in the second I have before Thread pushes my face back in between his shoulder blades.

I can feel the blood from the knife mark dripping downwards and drenching my skin. I to wipe it off, for a bandage, anything and at the same time I am thinking, _don't kill, Madge. Please, don't kill Madge._

"Ah," Thread addresses her. "It's our little spy isn't it? But, oh wait, I seem to recall you smashing all the cameras we told you to hide in the Underground before we could learn anything useful about the Mockingjay Forces' plans."

I hear a choked noise come from Madge's direction and remember how she spied for the Capitol for a brief period, in exchange for her mother's safety.

"Leave her alone!" Gale shouts, but that's all he can do. He can't come to her aid because he's busy making sure the other Peacekeepers can't advance from their solid stance.

Peacekeeper Thread chuckles again. "Careful, girl," he says to Madge. "If you jump ships too many times, you might find you don't have a place to belong anymore,"

That's enough. I start kicking him hard and fast again, despite the pain it causes for my back wound. Thread doesn't stand for this. He pulls out his knife again, and uses the club like end to hit me in the head with. A throbbing lump expands from the spot where he hit me almost immediately and I assume the rag doll pose again, stifling a cry of pain.

I can feel Thread walking forward to Madge. "I think I have the perfect place for you to go," he says with frantic malice. "Six feet under."

I hear Madge's gasp of fear and struggle to escape Romulus Thread's grip one last time, to save the girl who has always been my friend even when I didn't realize it. I twist forward and can see what's going on, but can't get away from Thread.

"Stop moving, you wretched girl!" he shouts at me, but doesn't put me back over his shoulder. I just hang there in one of his arms like he's holding one of those clutch purses that were all the rage in the Capitol last year. Thread is extremely strong, but I don't stop moving. "Fine, if you want down, I'll let you down," says Thread. He drops me onto the ground and I land face up. Before I can so much as scramble away, Threads foot comes down hard on my face. This time I can't stifle my pain. Thread laughs.

I feel hot, sticky blood pour from my nose down into my mouth. I roll over with much effort and spit out a mouthful of red. My fingers move up to my nose and I feel the bridge, checking if it's broken. Thankfully, it isn't, it's just emitting a lot of blood.

I look up as Thread begins walking towards Madge, gasping for breath as all the blood rushes over me, and see him bring the knife to her face, caressing it almost lovingly with the pointy end. Red soaks the left half of her face as I listen helplessly to her frequent sharp intakes of breath. Her eyes are wide, her lips are quivering, and finally Gale makes his move.

He whips around, ignoring the four Peacekeepers who start to advance upon us when they're no longer under his watchful eye, and grabs the knife from Peacekeeper Thread, pulling it safely away from Madge's face. She quickly runs away from Thread and crumples down next to me.

"Katniss, are you okay?" she asks me frantically. I only nod for her sake.

Gale and Thread are fighting with Madge and I watch from our huddle on the ground. The other four Peacekeepers are behind the fight but they aren't coming near us. I have my bow and arrows out and they seem to fear for their lives. Good.

Before us, Romulus Thread hits the ground and I swear the whole arena shakes. Gale has punched him in the face. Thread tries immediately to get back up, but Gale pounces down on him still holding the knife that is wet with Madge's blood, and mine for the matter. Romulus Thread can tell the end is coming; he is feverishly running a hand over his closely cropped gray hair and trying desperately to get up from the ground.

But Gale won't have that. He stabs the bloody knife straight into Thread's chest. "No one," stab, "messes," stab, "with my," stab, "girlfriend!" Gale cries triumphantly and with one last intense stab I watch the life leave Peacekeeper Romulus Thread's cold gray eyes.

Just when Gale thinks he's safe and is turning to Madge and I to say something, the other four Peacekeepers turn on him. Gale isn't caught off guard though; he just turns around very quickly and holds his own in the fight.

Just then, I remember the arrangement I made for President Snow. I set the timer for one hour. At least half of that is gone by now. I need to find the President and get him to the Cornucopia once and for all. But first, I need to get Madge away from this fight. She's been doing okay until now, but she is not the battle type and her wound can only make her worse.

"Madge, let's get out of here!" I shout to her over the noise of numerous battles.

"But…Gale," she shouts back.

"He can take care of himself." I tell her, trying to believe it at the same time. I can't look out for everyone.

Madge looks at him for a lingering second, then looks back to me and nods once. I get up, then help her up and we run away, with bloodied faces and aching hearts, together side by side.

"Where are we going?" Madge asks.

"To the Cornucopia," I tell her immediately. I'm hoping that if I go there, Snow will show up to try and kill me and then the joke will be on him. I need to bring Madge because if there's anyone at the Cornucopia who I don't want to be in harm's way when the plan goes into action I need her to get them to leave. Madge has one of those quiet, calming voices that everyone listens to without second guessing themselves.

Then Madge asks, "Why?" and I quickly explain to her my plan for the President's downfall. We run as I talk and when I'm finished we're nearly there. Madge's blue eyes are round and wide, but not skeptical.

"Wow, Katniss," she says in awe. "That actually sounds like it could work."

I grimace, still feeling the ache in my back when I run, "That's the idea," I say to her and then we keep on running.

When we are in view of the Cornucopia we stop dead in our tracks at the sight that greets us. President Snow is already there! I didn't have to lure him here at all. This is what I wanted…so why do I feel like something's up?

The answer to my question comes to me almost immediately: because something is. Yet another pair of Peacekeepers jet out from behind the golden horn and they grab me so instantly I don't even have time to wonder what is happening. I am dragged to the front of the Cornucopia and bound there by pre-existing ropes for this exact purpose. As they tie me to the structure, I struggle and scowl at the President who paces in front of me. Once I am tied the Peacekeepers back away. I try to break free of the knots, but it's no use. They might as well be steel.

In the background of this scene, Madge is trying to sneak away, probably to get some backup and free me I guess from the message, _I'm coming back,_ she's conveying to me in her eyes. But then Snow stops her by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and leading her forward, simultaneously taking her weapon and sticking it into his own belt, leaving her completely unarmed.

"Don't go," he says in a fake sweet voice to her. "Please stay and enjoy the show. I would like an audience," he bows his head to her. Madge looks at me for advice and I nod, trying to silently tell her to go with it. If she doesn't, he'll probably kill her. Madge nods shakily. "Good, good," Snow says. "Exactly the kind of behavior I would expect from a Mayor's daughter." Anger flashes in Madge's eyes as Snow offhandedly mentions her father. We both know its Snow's fault that Mayor Undersee is dead.

If Snow sees the anger, he doesn't do anything about it. He just turns back to me. His wounds must be bandaged by now and he must have drunk some medicine because no more blue blood is dripping from his body.

Other people are joining Madge in the crowd now. Peacekeepers were always around so no one can try to save me, and some Capitolian spectators look confused, like they were thinking _is this part of the show?_ People who are on my side are here too, with angry looks on their faces. I pick out Jameson and Johanna standing in the back, and Gale has made his way over too. Peeta and Haymitch are no where to be seen at first, but after some scanning I notice them sprinting over here from the other side of the arena. Also the man that must be Claudius Templesmith is standing in the front row, I can tell only by his voice when he talks to his neighbour. I shoot him a look that clearly says, _I hate you_, and he looks sheepishly away. He knows I do.

"Katniss Everdeen," President Snow says to me. "What do I have to say to you?"

I glare at him, still struggling against my bindings.

"You aren't going to get away this time," The President says. "You aren't going to escape until we've had a nice chat about things. And even after that you aren't going to escape because I'm going to kill you."

Snow strolls leisurely over to me. The sun is starting to set and the sky is a beautiful orange color that's not at all like the weak yellow wash the force field used to provide. In fact, the sunset's coloring is almost exactly the same as my button up tribute shirt's, burning brazenly against the shiny gold of the Cornucopia. President Snow puts a hand up against it and then addresses the audience.

"What we have here," he says to the crowd. "Is a prime example of what will happen to you if you try to defy the Capitol,"

I'm seething as I struggle against my binds. If President Snow manages to kill me as a school lecture example, I will roll over in my grave. Right now, I just roll my eyes.

"The Capitol," Snow continues, "Who continues to selflessly provide jobs for the districts every year and is a shining example of how life can be if you, the citizens, can abide it's few simple rules,"

I see my look of pure outrage reflected onto every district person's face in the crowd. Even a few Peacekeepers look like what President Snow has said is a bit much. They all look like they want to do something, but they don't. Of course they don't. They are too scared they will be killed instead of me, and rightly so.

"But Katniss Everdeen failed to follow those rules," The President covers his harshness with a sad sigh, as if he actually would have cared about me if I did follow them. "Instead, she instigated a so called rebellion of sorts, in which she was a symbol of the revolution. We, the Capitol, couldn't let her succeed, of course. Not when she was working with the bad people of District 13 and even blew up her home, District 12."

"She didn't blow us up," Madge growls as she takes a few steps forward.

Snow just orders a Peacekeeper to push her back and says, "Be quiet!" followed by, "Or will I have to deal with you later? As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this rebellion could never succeed. And while Katniss Everdeen is alive, the little ideas she planted in your brains are also alive and growing."

I am so mad at him right now, for lying to everyone and shushing anyone who tries to speak. The behaviour doesn't surprise me, I am just reminded of how evil Snow really is. He is walking towards me right in front of me and smiles a mean grin. He reaches towards my shirt and rips off my mockingjay pin with malice.

He turns back to the crowd and brandishes it, "This is the rebellion," he states soundly. Then he throws the pin into the dirt, crushing it with one of his big feet. "Now it's gone." He turns back to me, backing up a few steps and taking out a knife only to aim it at my heart. "And now," he says finally. "You will be too."

I know this is the end. I am strapped here against my will. I can't escape. So I stand up as tall as I can with my back strapped against the Cornucopia and lift my chin up, elongating my neck. I force myself not to squeeze my eyes shut, to blind myself to death before it happens. I want to die like the strong, symbol of rebellion that I am so that maybe after I'm gone some of the people watching will find it in their hearts to help Haymitch and Peeta and Gale and Madge with the revolution. The sun is setting behind me and I am thinking that this is a pretty poetic way to go when I see Haymitch and Peeta cutting their way through the now dense crowd. I saw them sprinting from the other side earlier and finally they have made it!

Unfortunately, the President sees them too and he knows that they will try to rescue me. So he cuts his speech short if there was any more left. He pulls back his arm, knife and all, and throws it towards me, right at my heart. I watch it soar through the air in slow motion and it gets even harder to keep my eyes open and my scowl from trembling. In the corner of my eye I can see Haymitch and Peeta make their way to the front of the crowd and Peeta is still running through the empty space towards me. I realize that he's going to block the knife! He's going to die for me! I am freaking out when I see Haymitch run in front of Peeta and push him back. Peeta hits the ground on all fours and by the time he tries to get back up it is too late. Haymitch has ran out right in front of me. The knife is advancing through the air.

"NO!" I am yelling but it's no good at all because the knife has just pierced through Haymitch's shirt and into his heart. He is falling, Snow is smiling wickedly, I am yelling, the crowd is standing in shock and only Peeta has enough sense to do something. Before Snow can stop him he races up to me and cuts back at the knots, hacking away at them as tears for Haymitch pool in his eyes.

Finally I am freed but I don't feel free I feel terrible. I see that Gale and some other Mockingjay Forces soldiers are keeping the President and his Peacekeepers at bay. I kneel down next to Haymitch and check for a pulse.

"I'm still here," Haymitch says gruffly with shallow, weak breathing when he feels my fingers on his neck. Peeta sits down next to me and gives me a much needed hand to hold.

"You shouldn't have done that, Haymitch," Peeta says sadly. "You should've let me,"

"No," Haymitch says. "You two are much more use to the rebellion than an old drunk like me. I was serving my purpose. You are the young ones now."

I remember that that's what Maysilee said to me the other day. Haymitch seems to be thinking of her too.

"Tell Maysilee," he says roughly, "That I'm sorry. She's the only one left from MJS now that you're mother's gone and I'm going."

My tears are streaming down my face and neck. My mother is gone, my father has been gone for a long while, and Haymitch is going. Of course I will tell Maysilee.

"And tell your friend Madge," Haymitch continues. "Well wait a bit of time before you do, but when you're all safe tell her that I was her dad, and that I'm sorry I never spent more time with her."

I gasp despite my sadness. Haymitch is Madge's father? It doesn't make any sense…and yet…it kind of does, especially after Haymitch explains it all to me in a couple of sentences with his last dying breaths. He starts right where Maysilee left off, she decided that baby me would have to go in the Hunger Games someday for Madylin's rebellion to work out, and Haymitch had left her alone in their big white house.

_Haymitch Abernathy was sitting at his kitchen table in his house in Victor's Village. He hated that house; all it did was remind him of the 50__th__ Hunger Games he participated in ten years prior. Thinking about that reminded him of his ally and friend Madylin Donner (under the alias of her sister Maysilee Donner) who died in those Games. And thinking about her made him think about Maysilee._

_Haymitch was doing his best not to think about Maysilee, but his best wasn't cutting it lately. He had only been separated from her for three months now. Maysilee, because it was Madylin's dying wish, was supporting an attempt at rebellion from the districts against the Capitol. Haymitch supported it too, until Maysilee told him she wanted their friends Pricilla and Kaul's newborn daughter to go in the Hunger Games when she was old enough. That was about when Haymitch got up and left her._

_Still, this Victor's Village house was not at all as homey as the one he had shared with Maysilee before. Haymitch wished he could go back to Maysilee but he could not on good conscious. He couldn't support anything that supported killing his friends' child._

_But on that wintry night, Maysilee Donner had something very important to tell Haymitch Abernathy, so she braved the storm to walk to his abode. Her cheeks were pink from the frosty cold and a blue hat sat atop her blonde curls. A matching blue coat cover up her baby bump, which was only starting to show a little bit and just made her look like she had a big lunch. Maysilee was three weeks pregnant. She knocked on the door._

_Haymitch could tell that it was Maysilee just from the knock (she always knocked the same way) and contemplated whether he should answer the door from his seat at the table. Haymitch Abernathy wasn't a soulless creature and it was abnormally cold outside, so he decided that he best just let her in. He walked over to the door and opened it expectantly._

_Of course, it was Maysilee. She tried to smile weakly at Haymitch but he only met it with a scowl. So then she opted for Plan B: Strawberries. Strawberries had always been Haymitch's favorite fruit and she had brought him a carton for this exact reason. She pulled out the little box from under her coat and presented it to him._

_Haymitch raised his eyebrows. If Maysilee thought she could win him back with just a carton of strawberries, she was definitely wrong. Maybe if she had ten cartons he would consider. But no, that wasn't his heart talking; it was just his love for strawberries._

_Maysilee's eyes were wide as she looked at Haymitch. "I brought you some strawberries," she told him._

"_I see," Haymitch mused. "Well, come inside then."_

_Maysilee did and they walked together back to Haymitch's kitchen table. She set the strawberries down and Haymitch immediately opened them and popped one in his mouth, without even bothering to wash it. It was a habit of his that always annoyed Maysilee._

_They didn't say anything to each other at first. Haymitch still wasn't sure why she was here at all._

"_Look, Haymitch," Maysilee said, breaking the silence. "I have something really important to tell you._

_Haymitch looked at her expectantly for a moment. "Well?" he asked finally. "What is it?"_

_Maysilee walked over to him and stood on tiptoe to whisper her secret in his ear, like she thought someone was snooping around and would hear her if she didn't tell him this way. When she was done, she drew back to survey his expression. He was stunned. It was not what she expected, which was him to ask her what she wanted to do, or what she had hoped against hope for, which was him to smile and hug her and tell her they would take care of the baby together. There was almost no emotion in his face when he first learned that Maysilee was with child, with his child._

_Haymitch was shocked. Maysilee was going to have a baby, his baby. A happy life full of laughing forms of the three of them flashed before his eyes before he could squash is down and he longed for it to be possible. But of course it could never be possible. Any child of his would have a one way ticket to the arena._

_Finally, he did say what Maysilee expected him to._

"_What are you going to do?"_

_She looked at him sadly, "I thought that we would take care of her together. I think it's a girl."_

_Haymitch thought about his daughter and wished she could someday know that he was her real father, but that day would have to be far in the future. No one could know. Not until the world was safe again, if ever._

"_No," he said bluntly and Maysilee looked very hurt. "I mean, no one can know she's mine. You know what happens to victor's kids, they get sent straight into the arena as soon as they're eligible for the Reaping. Our daughter can't go into the Games,"_

_Maysilee burst into tears. "I know!" she said, "But I don't know what else to do, Haymitch. She _is _yours and I don't want her to grow up without a father."_

_Haymitch hesitated only a second before he put his arm around Maysilee. "It will be okay," he said to her. "I have a plan. I have a plan and if we follow through with it, our daughter will always be safe."_

_Maysilee sniffled and looked up at him, "What is it?" she asked, eager for a way to say her child from the cruel fate that killed her sister._

_Haymitch told her his plan. He was cunning and clever enough to come up with it fast, and it was a valid plan. He knew that Maysilee had been childhood friends with a boy named Gage Undersee, who was a shoe in to be elected the mayor of District 12 in the next election. He also knew that Gage was head over heels in love with Maysilee –everyone knew that except for Maysilee herself. Haymitch's plan was for Maysilee to marry the future mayor and pass of the baby as a premature birth. It pained him to tell Maysilee to go love another man, but he had to. It was the only way he could think of to save their future daughter. But if the plan was going to work, Maysilee was going to marry Gage quickly._

"_Do you really think that would work?" she asked in a hushed tone after Haymitch finished describing her the plan. _

"_Of course it will work," Haymitch said gruffly. "Have you looked in a mirror lately Maysilee? Who wouldn't want to marry you?"_

_Maysilee blushed and looked down, but had another qualm in her troubled mind. "But I don't love Gage," she said almost inaudibly. "I love you."_

_Haymitch sighed and turned away from her. He had a feeling this problem would occur as soon as he opened the door and invited her in. But he couldn't go back to Maysilee, pregnant or not pregnant. He couldn't betray Pricilla and Kaul in such a way._

"_Well you're going to have to do it, Maysilee," was all that he said to her. "If it will keep our daughter safe, you have to do it."_

_Maysilee nodded a shaky nod and vowed that she would do it. She and Haymitch agreed that the child could never know about him, unless it was safer in the future. But before she bade Haymitch goodbye and left that night (the storm was clearing up and it was safe enough for her to set foot outside) she had to ask him one more thing._

"_Haymitch," she began. "This doesn't change anything for us?"_

_Haymitch shook his head with a sad sigh. "I'm sorry Maysilee," he said, and with that she was off wandering the snow covered streets, shedding her last icy tear for Haymitch Abernathy._

I am still in shock when Haymitch finishes his tale. He only spoke about ten words but I could imagine it unfolding before me. I watch the red stain spread from the knife point over his shirt and cringe. I still can't say anything so Peeta does for me.

"We'll tell her everything, Haymitch," he says sincerely. "When the time is right. She will understand."

Haymitch nods his head and it looks like the simple action takes him a lot of effort. "Take the knife out now," he orders me.

He can tell from my expression what I am thinking. If I take the knife out of him he will die.

"I know I'll die," he says gruffly. "But it'll be less painful then dying fifteen minutes later with this stupid thing in here,"

He looks at me expectantly and I assume I have no choice. With one hand still gripping Peeta's for dear life, I wrap the other around the knife that sticks straight up from Haymitch's chest. In one swift motion, before I can stop myself, I yank it out. Haymitch sucks in a breath and starts shaking uncontrollably. I am weeping so that my tears fall onto the now exposed wound.

"I love you, Haymitch," I say. It's something I've known for a while but never said to him out loud.

"We owe you so much," Peeta tells him and I can hear the tears in his voice.

Haymitch turns to us to tell us his last words. He points to Peeta and says, "Yes you can marry her," and then turns to me and says, "Fine you can name one of your kids after me," And then he lowers himself to the ground. "I always knew you kids could do it," he says quietly. And just like that, he's gone.

Peeta and I quietly move his body into the Cornucopia for now; the stands are too far away. My tears are falling like a faucet and it's only when the ground starts vibrating that I remember. The hour is up; my attack on the President is coming. I gasp as I remember and scan the area for Snow. He's still battling Gale and the others, and he's near here.

"We have to get out of here," I tell Peeta urgently. He looks puzzled but doesn't ask, "Why?" and we race away from the Cornucopia. Haymitch's body will be safe inside of it, but I'm worried about the others. Gale, Madge, Johanna, and Jameson are still near it and the countless others who came here to help me. I did program the muttations to only go for Snow, though, so all I can do is hope it will work.

With Peeta at my side, I watch the giant metal cage emerges from the ground. Inside it are snarling, snapping wolves –the same ones from my first Games. I wanted to have the same number as all of the tributes over the years, but twenty four times seventy six and then you add in all the crazy Quarter Quell stuff and you just get a lot of wolves, which could be dangerous, so I made due with about fifty of them. I watch Peeta's look of awe and terror as he watches the wolves and many of the spectators scream.

He bends down and whispers to me, "You are a genius,"

The doors of the cage slowly creak open and then the wolves bolt out, racing each other to President Snow. He turns around and the look of terror I see on his face almost makes me feel bad for him. Almost. The crowd –district people and Peacekeepers alike- parts for the dogs to jostle their way through. When they reach Snow he teeters away from them, running top heavy for his life. He is slashing his knife at the muttations but it isn't working at all, they just keep snarling back at him. I know now that they do possess memories of the tributes who they were modeled afterwards. So they hate him and they're ready to get revenge.

Snow is chased by the mutts right back into their cage where they start slashing away at him. I have to close my eyes because the sight of Snow dripping in insane amounts of blue blood is almost too gruesome for even me to handle. I hear his shouts for someone to save him, but not one of the Peacekeepers try, maybe because they're afraid the wolves will turn on them if they do or maybe because they only sided with Snow because they were afraid he would turn on them if they didn't.

My face is buried in Peeta's shirt so I don't have to watch President Snow being ripped to shreds when I feel a wet snuffling something at my side. I open my eyes and look down at it. It's one of the muttations. I back away from it, scared it will try to kill me as well, but it doesn't. I realize it's the smallest wolf with dark brown fur and eyes. Its collar is made of straw and has a tiny 11 on it. It's the Rue wolf.

She stares at me inquisitively and I look up at Peeta. He shrugs but can tell that I am still too wary to go near the wolf. He cautiously reaches out a hand to it which it sniffs eagerly. It seems safe enough so I move closer to it. Really it doesn't look vicious at all without its pointy fangs out and about. I reach out my hand to it too.

I start a little when it nudges my hand with its head to flip it over, but it doesn't seem to mean any harm. It spits something into my hand, with a lot of saliva covering it as well. I dry my hand and the object on my shirt, to the soundtrack of President Snow's now fading screams. I look into my hand.

It's my mockingjay pin! The muttation must have picked it up off of the ground. I thought that Snow had crushed it when he stepped on it but really it's only a little dented. I fasten it to my shirt, where it belongs.

"Thanks," I tell the creature and it almost looks like it smiles. Then she races back to the cage with the others to finish off Snow.

"Do you really think there's some of Rue in there?" Peeta asks quietly from my side.

"Not really," I say in the same hushed tone. "But some of her memories are. That's why they all hate Snow, and at least that one doesn't mind us."

Peeta and I stand together and watch Snow take his last dying breath from within the cage, screaming curses in our direction. With all the wolves inside it, the cage descends back to where it came from to stay there for good.

The next few events seem to happen very slowly and all together at once. First, all of the people who are on our side gather in the center of the arena. Madge, Gale, Johanna, Jameson, and Peeta and I survived it but also Effie Trinket and Ghita Hume, who fought for our side. All the other people I don't know as well come too. We civilly tell the Peacekeepers to leave us alone or we will kill them. I know if it comes to that I won't be the one to do it though. I've had enough killing for a life time. The Peacekeepers agree all too quickly and leave the arena in their helicopter to go somewhere, probably the Capitol, and recuperate. We'll have to deal with them later, I suppose.

All the district people go back to their districts in their respective helicopters, taking their dead with them. They will spread the word that the Capitol has fallen and the government is, for now, unknown.

Then Gale, Madge, Jameson, Johanna, Peeta, and I, accompanied by Ghita and Effie, who insisted on coming, leave the arena through its gates and find the helicopter Maysilee took the others in sitting on the ground before us. I walk up to it and knock. We are greeted by Prim, Myra, Beetee, Roger, Taint, and Annie with lots of warm hugs. Prim explains to us that Maysilee has died.

"Annie ran out of here a couple of hours ago, screaming that Finnick died," she says somberly. "So Maysilee went out to get her to come back, but some guards got her. Annie was okay though and I got her back inside." After this news Madge sits down crying for her mother and I get Peeta to tell Annie's dead. I have to tell Prim about our mom.

"That was good of you, Prim," I say in an expressionless voice. All the emotions I've been bottling up for a long time are dangerously close to exploding. Prim is cuddling her old cat Buttercup. She notices me staring at him.

"Mom brought him for me from District 11," she says. "We took him there too, and Lady, but she wouldn't go on the helicopter, mom said. Where is mom?"

Then I have to tell her that mom's gone, and mom's never coming back. Prim cries a lot but nods like she new something horrible like this was going to happen. And really, when you consider the odds, we got off lucky. It doesn't feel like that though.

It's decided that Peeta and I, plus Prim, Madge, and Gale's entire family are going to go on another victory tour of sorts to tell the districts what has gone on and get an idea of what's going to happen with Panem in the future. Gale's mother thinks that we should have at least some adult supervision, which is ridiculous because most of us are adults really; I mean Gale's twenty one. I think she just doesn't want to be separated from him again so soon. Effie is going too because she still has the connections to get us a sweet deal on a train.

This is all very bittersweet because, ultimately, we got what we wanted but we're very blindly going to walk into the unknown from here on out. I wish Haymitch were here. He always knew what to do.

All of that victory tour stuff is going to have to wait a couple weeks. It's been settled that we're going back to District 13. Now that 12 is gone we're going to try and start a new colony there, but above ground. The helicopter ride home, I've realized it is my home now, is a day long but no one speaks much. We're all still reflecting.

Effie and Ghita mind Prim for me and take responsibility for Roger and Taint too until they find out if their families are all right. Beetee and Myra stay together too and Annie won't really talk to anyone because she's so depressed about Finnick. Peeta and I spend a lot of time together just sitting and thinking. Johanna and Jameson are shut up in their room celebrating and the Hawthorne family all sits together. Madge sits with them too because she doesn't really have one anymore. Peeta and I remember our promise to Haymitch but we don't tell Madge about her real dad yet. It's too soon. We will some day.

None of us want much to fly the helicopter so we put it on autopilot, an exciting feature of the Capitol's. We're going to have to go there eventually too and see if there's anyone who still wants to kill us plus how all the naïve citizens are holding up.

When we finally touch down in District 13 (we don't have to use the invisi-suits and chutes anymore) most everyone goes down to the Underground at once to get some sleep. I crave fresh air though, fresh air where it is not a possibility for me to be killed, so I stay up above. Peeta stays to keep me company. Eventually we get tired and lie down against the earth, looking skywards. The blackness is full of stars tonight and there is no faces of the dead projected onto them and there are no canons going off to tell me when someone dies because no one's dying.

After a while, Peeta turns his face towards mine. "Are you okay?" he asks me.

I don't even have to think before I tell him, "No,"

He laughs a sad laugh. "Me either. Do you think it'll ever go back to normal?"

He's talking about life and I think about his question. For three years now my whole life has been a blur of rebellion planning, time in the arena, and fake turned real romances. That will all be behind me after a while when we figure out what we're going to do with this country that we've finally saved. I will never get my life back into the shape it was in before all of this started, but I think I will be able to pick up the pieces and glue them together in a new shape. I think that's the best I can do.

"I think it might," I tell him finally, offering a hand for him to hold. He takes it gratefully and I think of a normal world in the future and what that would mean for us. "I think it might, someday,"

My words trail off as I look at the many stars shining from above and hold Peeta's hand, strong and steady. Maybe things can go back normal eventually with no interference from the now deceased president. The Hunger Games have changed my life and me for better and for worse, mostly for worse, and it's going to be hard to switch off my instinctive survival instinct from now on. I am different now, but I am also still the same. I am Katniss Everdeen and I did not go down without a fight. Actually, I did not go down at all.

**Please review and stick around for the epilogue, this story isn't over yet.**


	28. Epilogue

**Here it is, the final bit. I'd like to take note that I did post this before the real Mockingjay hit shelves, yay I reached my goal! Thank you so much if you've stuck with me from the beginning and if you just caught on near the end! Your support is much appreciated and you are the reason I wanted to finish this project. It took me nine months to write this (because I'm a slow writer) which is the equivalent of making a baby. If you want to keep in touch with me, PM me your facebook name and I'll add you, plus it would be greatly appreciated if you subscribed to me on youtube, my username is MoggyMegs. Happy reading and I hope you enjoyed this and enjoy the real Mockingjay. I owe this all to Suzanne Collins for creating the wonderful characters and eerily realistic settings that I love to play in.**

Epilogue: 17 Years Later

It is a Sunday, and it also happens to be the day of the Reaping. Now let me be clear, it's not the same kind of Reaping as before. No kids will have to go into the arena now, or ever again. But we couldn't let the horrors of the past lay forgotten, so every year on Reaping Day we head to town square and speeches are made about our version of the Dark Days and how evil the Capitol was. All the kids hate it because it's really boring, but they listen just the same.

Speaking of the Capitol, we are still not on perfect terms with them but everyone is civil. Lots of people from various districts came to live with us here –in what used to be called District 13 but is now called Expedius- after the war. But people from the Capitol didn't want to leave their way of life, plus a few Peacekeepers went back to get them in order. In the early days they tried to attack us a couple of times but we recently got them to sign a treaty.

It was scary starting a new way of life, especially when we, as in Gale, Madge, Peeta, and I, were really the ones in charge. The first few years were hard ones but eventually things started falling into place. Like when Jameson was elected for mayor, which really took a lot of weight off our soldiers. But of course we are all still on the council.

Since it's a Sunday I should be out hunting with Gale, but because of the ceremony I have to stay home and get ready. So I finally decide that I will go down to the kitchen and see what Peeta's up to. I put on my attire for the day (a simple red dress because of the Reaping ceremony, plus my mockingjay pin, of course) and plait my hair into its usual braid. Then I head downstairs.

Peeta made me breakfast as per usual so I grab a plate and sit down at the table beside him. We got married ten years ago. After we got married, although Prim was definitely old enough to take care of herself, she went to live with Ghita and Effie for a while. But now she's married and out of the house too, to Gale's oldest brother Rory. Gale and Madge tied the knot first, only a mere two years after the 76th and Final Hunger Games.

"Are the kids up yet?" Peeta asks me as I dig into my pastry.

I swallow and answer, "Surprisingly, no. But we're going to have to wake Rue up pretty soon. Madylin and Haymitch can sleep in until Annie comes over,"

Rue is our eldest daughter. She turned twelve this past year and children have to be at least twelve before they can come to the Reaping and listen first hand to what happened in the past. Madylin is only eight years old and Haymitch is seven so they can't come quite yet. Annie has never been able to handle the Reaping ceremonies so she never comes to them. She is a lot better than before though and baby-sits the kids every Reaping Day. Her own son Free, hence named because he was the first child born into the new and just colony, is sixteen and he does go to the ceremonies. He is the spitting image of Finnick and has also inherited some of his father's womanizing nature, I am afraid.

I am just finishing up my breakfast and putting my plate in the sink when Peeta walks over carrying his dishes too. After that he leans against the counter and I press into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as his hands trace lazy circles on my forearms. I feel him rest his chin on top of my head and we just stand like that for a while and I know we're both thinking the same thing.

My suspicions are confirmed when he kisses my forehead, looks down at me, and says, "I can't believe it's been seventeen years since the last Hunger Games."

"Me either," I mumble. It's still surreal to think that the world is safe again, as safe as it ever can be. "Before then I wasn't even sure if I liked you," I tell him coyly.

"But I was always hopelessly in love with you," he says with a mock sigh.

"Well," I continue. "I think I'm sure I like you now,"

Peeta looks down at me, "Oh really?" he asks with one eyebrow arched.

I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss him. This is one of those rare times when all three of our kids are asleep at the same time so we might as well take advantage of it. "Really," is all I have time to say before I am pressed up against the counter responding to Peeta's long, languid kisses. One of his hands trails from cupping my cheek to the nape of my neck and the other pulls me closer to him on the small of my back. My hands tangle into his hair, pulling him down to me as my lips make complicated patterns with his. He lifts me up and sets me on the counter to start kissing my neck right under my jaw line. I close my eyes and feel the pressure of his lips on my neck. Then I hear a voice.

"Uh…hi guys,"

I open my eyes and she smiles at me. It's Madge, with Gale by her side.

I quickly hop down from my perch on the counter and Peeta smoothes my hair. We look sheepishly at the other two.

"Sorry that we interrupted you," Madge tells us softly.

"It's okay," I tell her. Gale is the one who thinks it is fine to barge into _my house_ without telling me he's coming in advance.

"You know Gale, there's this new thing called knocking. I know it might not have reached your neck of the woods yet, but you should give it a try sometime," I tell him. The neck of the woods bit really isn't relevant because Gale and Madge live just next door to us.

"Well, Catnip, I'm just glad the kids are still outside because I want them to see…" he starts to retaliate but then trails off under the wrath of my scowl.

After his statement the Hawthorne kids come. Gale and Madge always walk with us to the square, with their son Gage who's fifteen and old enough to attend the Reaping. Their eight year old daughter Maysilee is too young so she stays with our kids and Annie too.

The crazy thing about our daughter Madylin and their daughter Maysilee are the same age and were born only a day apart (one on May 16th and the other on May 17th). It was a crazy occurrence so we decided to name them after the Donner twins.

"Where's Madylin?" Maysilee pipes up eagerly, her blonde curls almost quivering with excitement. The two have been best friends since birth.

"She's still up in her room," Peeta tells her warmly. "Why don't you go get her?"

"Okay!" Maysilee says. "I'll get Rue and Haymitch too!"

With her gone the four of us make small talk and ask Gage how he's doing in school. School actually teaches useful things these days and doesn't just smother the kids in knowledge about coal mining and how glorious the Capitol is like I remember. Gage's resemblance to Gale is uncanny, but he has Madge's big blue eyes.

Maysilee comes back down with our kids. Madylin has Peeta's blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes but he still insists her features are like mine. Haymitch has the full Seam look. Rue has tan skin, like me, but blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.

Annie comes over with Free shortly and it's time for us to get to the ceremony. Peeta and I kiss our children goodbye and are out the door with Gale and Madge, walking behind Rue, Gage, and Free. They are talking about some upcoming school thing.

"Can you guys believe it's been seventeen years?" Gale asks us and we shake our heads.

"We were just talking about that," I tell him. "It feels like only yesterday we were…"

"Fighting for our lives in a bloodthirsty arena?" Peeta asks.

"Saving these two from the Capitol, while fighting for our lives?" adds Gale.

"Just fighting for our lives in general?" asks Madge.

I think about it for a second. "Pretty much," I say and we all start laughing.

We reach the square and leave the kids in the crowd. Because we were so involved with the rebellion, the four of us always have to stand on stage with some other people. Effie Trinket says her welcoming speech and then turns it over to Jameson, who speaks in his slow and low voice about the rebellion and the Hunger Games and the Capitol to the audience.

I must admit, I zone out a little. I'm looking at the stars and remembering all the people who were lost in the war. I will never fully get over some of the sacrifices we had to make, but I have found a way to live with the sadness that sometimes comes over me. I find that if I try really hard I can still image Finnick's sly expression and the pressure of Cinna's hand on mine, my mother braiding my hair and Haymitch's gruff voice as he calls me "sweetheart."

The absence of sound greets my ears and I know that Jameson's speech is over and it's time for the moment of silence we have every year for the people who sacrificed their lives to make the world better for us. I grasp Peeta's hand and look out into the audience. Many of them are staring at Peeta and I, as they usually do at this time of the ceremony, because we were huge players in the rebellion. I was the mockingjay and he was the reason I kept trying. I need to set a good example for the watchers, and make sure my friends are not forgotten. I remember all the past times when Peeta and I held hands like this and looked out into a crowd. There were times when we smiled radiantly as they cheered our names, and other times when we stood hard as stones and expressionless. I need to pick one now.

I gaze into the crowd and see all the rebels, whether they were with us from the beginning or joined us later than that. We won our battle, we defeated the Capitol, and we earned the right to live freely without paying the tribute of our children each year. I hear one lone mockingjay sing the four note song I've been teaching them and feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I let it shine and I know that beside me Peeta is doing the same thing. After my years in the Hunger Games and having to sway people in the direction of good and justice I have learned one thing. Radiant always wins the crowd in the end.

**BAM! Just like that…it's finished. The real Mockingjay comes out in less than an hour and I'll be purchasing my copy first thing tomorrow morning. I hope you enjoyed my version. Please everyone review as one last favor to me! Tell me your favorite parts, chapters, scenes, OCs, anything. I've had some reviewers that reviewed a lot in the early days but just dropped off the Earth lately and if you are one of them, please review to let me know you are alive and well. Thank you all for your time, it's meant the world to me.**

**Please check out my other fanfics in the Hunger Games universe and in the Harry Potter and Twilight universes if you're fans of those too. I'm thinking of writing a new story about all the new kids from this story. Even though this is not the real outcome of Mockingjay, I think it would be a fun project, would any of you be interested in reading it?**

**Again, thank you and goodnight. 3 :)**


	29. A Little Note 3

Hello lovelies! (if there are any of you left) :3

Lately I've been missing the fanfiction world, including my Hunger Games stuff. I just wanted to do a quick note and see if any of you are out there who would be interested in reading more for me. I've been considering that story about my next generation HG kids that I hinted at way back when. Would that be of interest to anyone? Any other suggestions are greatly appreciated! I still love you all to the moon and back for your support of The Mockingjay. If I'm feeling down I just read your generous, kind review and they make me happy again. I guess that's all, bye for now! You may be hearing from me in the near future.


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